


Nature and Nurture

by audreyslove



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, F/M, Outlaw Queen Advent Calendar 2019 (Once Upon a Time)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:26:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22163263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audreyslove/pseuds/audreyslove
Summary: Robin discovers the son he never met or knew about was put up for adoption years ago.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Robin Hood
Comments: 17
Kudos: 72





	1. Chapter 1

It’s three PM on a lazy Sunday and Robin is enjoying the day off, sitting in his unusually quiet house and trying to enjoy an American football game. Roland would be proud of his attempt, but Roland’s with his mother this Sunday, leaving him alone to attempt to learn the ins and outs of the game.

His blood rushes cold as he hears the calm, rich voice on the phone repeat her name.

“Carmella Duvall.”

Shit. It really is her.

Ella.

They were kids when they got together, Robin and Ella, really, and lived quite different lives. He was a recent college graduate struggling to find himself, Ella was a seemingly confident force of nature who swept him under her wing for a few months. But the thin veneer covering her true life cracked, and Robin realized Ella was a much different person than she portrayed.

Ella was an addict, and perhaps there was more, too, her mood swings were violent enough for him to think there could be a bipolar disorder hidden underneath. She fought with him seemingly over nothing, she sometimes grew violent and threw things, turned that violence on herself as well. And though her apologies and promises to change were sweet and so heartfelt, she could never really keep her word on that matter.

He had offered her help, support, money, whatever would incentivize her to seek professional help, but she always found a way to avoid it.

In the end, he gave her an ultimatum: she would go to rehab or they would break up.

She chose her drugs. He supposes they made her happier than he ever did, when you get down to it. Neither of them had been very happy for any long period of time, anyway.

Mandating she give up the euphoria of drugs for a relationship that, addiction aside, did not work, was a rather silly idea.

Ella ended it the moment he said the words. She told him to never contact him again and threw a vase against the wall when he tried to say a few words of kindness to make the breakup at least end on good terms.

He tried contacting her after that, just to make sure she was alright, but she changed her number and had moved out of the apartment she was renting.

Robin found himself a nice cozy job with the government, and the chaos of his youth faded into memory.

That was, fuck, nearly a decade ago. When he hears her delicate voice on the other end of the phone, the memories come flooding back, and he’s realized he has compartmentalized that whole time in his life.

“Carmella?” he asks, “I’m sorry, it’s been such a long time. How are you?”

She sounds better (though she was always good at that, appearing well, appearing better). But she tells him she’s in a twelve-step program, that she finally sought help, that she’s not even had a sip of liquor in over five months. She no longer bartends, which was too dangerous given her many addictions. Instead, she’s the manager of a clothing store and takes art classes at night. She wants to be a graphic designer.

“That’s great,” Robin says enthusiastically.

“It’s… it’s better than it was. Anyway, I’m sure you’ve guessed where this conversation is going. I’m on the step where I apologize to others for everything I did while under my addiction.”

Her addiction. Even admitting that she had one is such an improvement.

“All is forgiven,” Robin assures. “I was young and didn’t handle any of that well, either. I’m sorry, too, Ella.”

“Thank you for your forgiveness, but there are things you don’t know,” Ella sighs, “things I have to tell you, now, or they will eat at me forever.”

“Alright,” Robin breathes, “what is it?”

“Well, remember when you thought you had been pickpocketed that time in the park? I’m ashamed, but I took that fifty out of your pocket. I um, I needed more coke and couldn’t ask you for the money. You would have known where it was going. So I stole it.”

“S’ok,” Robin assures. “Admittedly I _thought_ it was you that stole it. It was a long time ago, and I knew you weren’t yourself then.”

“There’s something far worse,” Ella says, and he can _hear_ it, hear her fear, her pain, her tears through the phone.

He feels his stomach tighten, his mouth goes dry, he knows there’s something big this time, and he can’t imagine what Ella did when at her most destructive.

“I... oh god, Robin, I am so sorry. I was pregnant when we broke up. I didn’t… I didn’t want to tell you, I never wanted to see you again, I—”

“You were _pregnant_ with my child and didn’t tell me?” he asks incredulously. How could this happen? He feels so dazed, he’s unsure if he’s even standing on his own legs and wonders if perhaps this is some dream, some hallucination. Then Robin thinks of Ella that last time he saw her, all strung out and wild, crazy, oh, that poor baby… It probably never made it, she’s confessing to a miscarriage. Oh god.

He tries to keep his voice calm as he urges her to explain. “What happened, Ella?”

“I… I had him and I knew I couldn’t care for him so I gave him up for adoption,” Carmella babbles quickly. “I, I should have called you but—”

“I have a son out there that I don’t know?!” Robin asks, now thoroughly shocked. Confessing to a miscarriage would be brutal but understandable, but this? He can’t even process it. “I… you are saying that you kept my _child_ from me? There’s a child out there and he’s mine?”

“I’m so sorry, Robin,” Ella confirms.

“No, this is a cruel joke,” Robin grits his teeth, “You were shit, Carmella, but never _this_ shit. There’s no way you would do something so low, so—”

“I did it, okay!” she cries back, “I was a terrible person, I wasn’t thinking clearly, I was hurt over our breakup, and I just didn’t think you needed to know, I figured I’d have an abortion. But then, I just… the baby pumped me full of this… it was like magic. It made me feel good. Like I was worth something. I couldn’t have the abortion, I couldn’t.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Robin snipes back. “I could have shared in this with you, though. You took away my right to keep him myself… you could have given him away to me, not some stranger! You knew I wanted children, you—”

“I’m so, so sorry.” He hears soft sobbing on the line, and damn it to hell she _should_ be crying, fuck her, he has lost everything in an instant, a son to love, a part of him that’s in this world, a brother to Roland, shit… “I directed all the anger I should have had at myself toward you, and it was just easier that way. I couldn't bear to see you, I was fragile and while pregnant, I had to take care of myself because of the baby. I was too scared, too weak, too angry.”

“Where… when did you, oh fuck, El, this is a lot to drop on me like this,” Robin mutters, slipping into his little nickname for her despite everything.

“I agreed to place him with a single mother,” Ella explains, and Robin is livid.

“A what? He doesn’t even have an _adopted_ father? Why Ella? Why did you do this?? Who did you pawn my son off to?”

“It was through a legitimate agency!” Carmella cries, “She was… very smart and put together. I just saw her and she was everything I wanted to be. I can’t explain it, but I just knew she was right for him.”

For a good while, neither of them speaks. His mind is reeling.

“You should not have told me this,” Robin says angrily. “If I didn’t know I wouldn’t be here wondering, and I’ll never stop wondering and worrying about… oh god, Ella, you were addicted to oxy and cocaine and god knows what else, how did he… did he—”

“I was able to quit,” she tells him, stopping him from spiraling out. “It was hard, but knowing I had to quit for someone better and more than myself, it kept me from using. I went to a methadone clinic, but they say the doses were safe for pregnant women and their babies. I… I could keep it together for as long as I had that baby but I had the good sense to know the child wasn’t a cure. He came out just perfect, the doctors said. He deserved better than me. I gave him up, and then…”

He realizes Ella had to have backslid into addiction after giving birth, it doesn’t take nine years to get through a twelve step program unless there are setbacks.

“I had some terrible, troubling years. I hit rock bottom and finally got help. You’ve been on my mind since the fog cleared and I realized what I did, what I took from you.”

“And what good did telling me do? What can I do now? I don’t even know where he is!” Robin punches the couch next to him just to feel something, just for a moment.

“I do,” Ella answers. “Robin, I know everything. I have the adopted mother’s name, all her info, where she works, so you can… do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” Robin laughs bitterly. “I want those years with _my son_ back, Ella, can you give me that?”

“I’m so, so sorry, Robin,” Ella murmurs, “But you never gave him up, you didn’t sign your rights away, so you can—”

“What, take him back from the only mother he’s known for his whole life? Make him hate me? I can do that?”

“You can see him, you can get something, right? Look… I don’t know! But he’s right here in Maine. He lives in a town called Storybrooke. It’s only a few hours away, and….”

It’s a haze of details and information exchanged. Robin gets even more of this information a few days later when the mail comes. Ella had included all the paperwork, the child’s birth records (August 15, 2010, a time that syncs perfectly with their relationship).

Henry was born healthy according to the records, thank God.

There’s an adoption form, and a birth certificate that leaves the father’s information blank, his anger surging because she knew, she did, she knew and hid vital information so she could give his baby away.

There’s a manila envelope that says “Adoption” on it, and he’s loathe to look in it at first, knowing it will have information that makes him quake in anger and frustration. It takes hours, but curiosity gets the best of him and he opens it up.

The first thing he sees is a printout of the woman who adopted his child.

Regina Mills.

It’s not her fault, he knows that. It’s Carmella’s fault, and in many ways, it might be his fault. But as he stares at that picture, into the chocolate brown eyes, soft, full lips, that hopeful smile… well, he can’t help but hate her.

How could he not? She took his baby away.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s about time this town gets some recognition, Regina thinks, as she readies herself for her next appointment. Regina and the superintendent of the Storybrooke Public School System have really done some transformative work, so she should not be surprised they caught the attention of the state, in fact, actually, it’s long overdue.

She’s not sure what this Robin Locksley wants to discuss. Her secretary was quite shit at relaying his request for a meeting, but Ruby has been overworked lately, and Regina is _trying_ to be understanding about it. So she quickly googled the man’s name and found he was a very prominent director with the state’s Department of Education. Ruby’s message had said he wanted to discuss children, so that made perfect sense.

Her free breakfast program has had stellar results, after all, and the extra allotted amount for special projects and field trips has timed perfectly with improved test scores. Yes, they are doing things right in Storybrooke, and it seems they are finally getting recognition for it.

The man who enters her office looks far more timid than she’d expect a man of such authority to exhibit, and far more attractive than a civil servant should ever be, but she tries to put those thoughts away she greets him. “Have a seat, Mr. Locksley,” she says warmly, grabbing her paperwork from her desk and piling it into a neat stack.

“Please, call me Robin,” the kind man says as he sits in the chair across her desk.

“Robin, then,” she smiles back. “I’ve actually been expecting you to call for some time now.”

His mouth falls open. “You… you were? How did you—?”

“Well, we are quite proud of the education here at Storybrooke, and I know a lot of our methods are a bit untraditional, but as I’m sure you noticed, the results are outstanding.”

She leans forward and grabs a binder full of data that she prepared for Robin.

“A lot of this is data you have, but it’s a good backdrop for the details,” Regina explains. “And if you have any intention of spotlighting us, a lot of credit should go to our superintendent, August Booth. He’s the one who suggested the “breakfast at homeroom” idea. The kids love it, they all get it so there’s no stigma, and—”

“I am sorry, there seems to be some mistake,” Robin says, clearing his throat. “I… I’m not here about your school’s free breakfast program.”

“Our fine arts program, then?” Regina asks. He shakes his head. “The math competition we hold each year?” But Robin just looks stunned and embarrassed. “You are from the Department of Education, are you not?”

“I am,” he admits, looking quite sheepish. “But I’m, uh, not here in my capacity as education director.”

Regina furrows her brow. “Then what are you here as?” she asks.

“I’m here as… um, a parent, I suppose.”

Now, why would a parent come all the way from Augusta to see her?

“I’m confused,” Regina murmurs. “Are you looking to move here with your son? I can put you in touch with a great real estate agent, but I feel it’s a bit inappropriate to use your position to get a meeting with a very busy mayor.”

“I never used my position, or mentioned it at all,” Robin says quickly. “I’m sorry, what did your secretary say I called for? I told her I wanted to talk about your child, I expected you’d want to call me for further information, but instead I got an appointment, and—”

“My Henry?” Regina asks. Her heart clenches, sensing danger. God, what is happening? What could he possibly want of Henry?

“Henry,” Robin murmurs as if it’s the first he has heard of the name.

“Yes, Henry. Now, what does this have to do with him? And how do you know anything about him? He’s nine years old, I’m fairly sure he hasn’t made any late-night trips to Augusta.”

“I… no, it’s nothing he’s done,” Robin clarifies. “It’s something his biological mother did, actually.”

Oh. _Oh._

Regina knows. She doesn’t know how, but it’s like she can both read his mind and see the future. The man before her would look nothing like Henry to a stranger, but she can see traces of his mannerisms, the way he looks at her with inquisitive, soft eyes, the way he bites the left corner of his lower lip, shit…

She pretends she doesn’t know what he’s talking about, because voicing it makes it real, and she hopes to god she’s wrong.

“I’ve had no contact with Ms. Duvall,” Regina says clearly. “She picked me through a reputable adoption agency, and we were clear on the terms. No contact after the adoption was finalized. She was to have no role in the child’s life. So I’m afraid I can’t help you if you are looking to reprimand her for some wrongdoing.”

She’s struck by how handsome he is, this man who is asking about Henry. His eyes are this vibrant shade of blue, almost an aqua, he’s unshaven in a very deliberate way, she thinks there might be more product in his hair than hers, he smells of earth and pine in a way that feels natural but she knows is the result of a good aftershave or cologne.

“She contacted me recently,” Robin explains, clearing his throat and pausing.

Regina is holding her breath. Oh, just say it!

But he says nothing.

“There’s nothing I can tell you that she wouldn’t have said herself,” Regina promises. “So, absent a court order or a subpoena—”

“Ella and I broke up about ten years ago. And if you know Ella, you know she struggles with addiction. I had to leave her when she wouldn’t seek treatment. And, well, she sounds better now, but she had news for me. She said that after we broke up she discovered she was pregnant. And gave that child up for adoption. She says that I’m the father.” Regina still isn’t breathing, she’s just stunned to hear the words. Then Robin says again. “I am Henry’s father.”

Something about that just sets her off, because how dare he declare himself _anything_ of Henry’s?

“You need to leave,” she directs, standing up and pointing to the door. “Henry has one parent. Me. He will never have anything other than me. If you think you can swoop in here—”

“Give me a moment to explain!” Robin cuts off, “I’m not trying to—”

“Oh, I know what you’re trying to do,” Regina grumbles. “Appeal to me, flash me that lopsided grin and give me that look, assume I’ll turn to putty and put my good sense aside so you can get something out of it. I’m not falling for it. Henry is _mine._ You gave him up.”

“I didn’t!” Robin exclaims, “Ms. Mills, I didn’t even know I _had_ a child to give away.”

“Well, whose fault is that?” Regina snaps back. “Maybe be more careful where you spray your DNA. If you wanted to be a father—”

“I _am_ a father,” Robin interrupts.

“You are _not,_ Henry is nothing to you and—”

“I have a son. Roland,” Robin explains.

Henry’s brother, she realizes. But she’s too mad and threatened to think too much into that.

“Glad to know you were able to actually keep up with that one,” she snaps back. “Now, if you've come here for money to go away, you’ll find I have absolutely no qualms spending triple beating you in court and I'll report you to every authority—”

“I don’t want any money!” Robin exclaims, “If you’d just listen—”

“I don’t have to listen to a word you say, and if you return I will get a restraining order!” Regina threatens, “and if I see or hear anything about you around _my_ child, I swear—”

“I’d never do that,” Robin assures, “but, god, Ms. Mills, I’ve just found out I have a child, a biological part of me, what would _you_ do if you were in my position?”

“I’d never be in your position!” Regina stalks towards him, “If I was a man I’d make damn sure I didn’t have unprotected sex with addicts who need help instead of being used as a warm place to stick one’s cock! That girl was in no condition to be treated as a sex object, yet apparently you had no trouble—”

“You have no idea what you are talking about,” Robin interrupts, but fuck him.

Regina shakes her head. “I know your type all too well. And if you think for one second you are taking my child—”

“I don’t want to take him from you!” Robin says, standing up from his seat, looking extremely angry. “I just want to know that—”

“You get to know nothing,” Regina grumbles. “Get out of here before I call the police.”

Robin sighs defeatedly. “He may not be my son in the way you are his mother, Ms. Mills, but if Ella is telling the truth, he’s genetically my son. There are parts of him you may want to know about from me. In case he’s ever ill, I can eliminate some genetic diseases in our family. If he needs an organ or a…anything, really! I’m here. If you need me. Your secretary has my number.”

“Get out,” Regina sneers, pointing to the door.

“I hope you’re a kind mother to him,” Robin grumbles as he leaves her.

She’s stuck reliving every moment, worrying that the future of her baby boy may be in jeopardy.

No, this cannot be happening.


	3. Chapter 3

“Seriously, he can’t invalidate the adoption. There are laws and regulations to protect that from happening,” Mallory Drake reiterates.

Regina had called her own friend the very second she had composed herself. They made a date for lunch in Regina’s office the next day, but Regina hasn’t touched her food. She’s too nervous. Mal, on the other hand, looks composed and confident as ever.

Regina looks down at her salad and pretends to pick at it before giving up. She sighs, placing her elbows on the table, dropping her head into her hands so she can rub at her temples to soothe the dull headache she hopes won’t manifest into a migraine. “So he can’t sue for custody or visitation or anything?”

Mal frowns.

“Custody? Visitation? I… that’s more complicated. I’d have to look up case law on the matter. I’m not a family lawyer, and I didn’t really research that. But I know he can’t overturn the adoption. It’s too late to object, whether he gave you his parental rights or not. Henry is yours, Regina.”

“Can I get a restraining order?” Regina asks, “I need him to stay far away from Henry. I don’t want him finding out about this.”

“Given that he’s never contacted him, I doubt we can get a true restraining order for Henry,” Mallory answers, “And he only contacted you that one time and never made any threats. so—”

“His very existence is a threat!” Regina balks. “Mal, he wants to take my baby.”

“He doesn’t sound like he’s going to take your baby,” Mallory counters, “He’s a dad, too, right? As a parent, he should know that would be incredibly destructive.”

“He’s not an _adoptive_ dad. What if he sees me as less important because I’m not Henry’s blood?”

“Then he’s an idiot, and the law is fully on your side. There is no difference between biological and adoptive children legally and in any other way, for that matter. Honestly, the best case scenario is that he tries something like making an absurd argument like that. He will get laughed out of court.”

“He has a son,” Regina echoes. That part is staying with her. She can’t stop thinking about what that son looks like, what he’s like.

Mallory softens, reaches from across the conference table and grasps at Regina’s hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“I know, honey. A little part of Henry is out there... You always knew that was a possibility. You can expect it, you know? When you adopt.”

“Yeah…” Regina nods. “But now that I _know…”_ she trails off. “It makes it real. Now I wonder about this little brother of Henry, how he is, whether they would get along…”

She sighs. She always wanted a sibling for Henry, but it never quite worked out. She’s much too busy to care for a second child now, and before that, the children she looked into adopting kept slipping through her hands, none of them ever meant to be the way Henry was, it seems.

“Is that what’s bothering you? Even more than the fact that he came in and acted like you weren’t Henry’s real mom?”

Mallory is parroting Regina’s words from before, the first thing she said when she was still so angry at Robin. But now, with a bit of distance from the situation, she remembers things a bit differently.

“Honestly, he didn’t really do that. He didn’t say or do anything wrong, per se. He handled it probably as well as anyone could. I just… I got so angry so quickly. It’s just that this could not have come at a worse time.”

Mal raises an eyebrow and waits for a Regina to explain.

“Henry has been asking about his biological parents,” Regina explains. “He has so many questions, he wants to know them so badly. And I… I hate it.”

“It’s hard when they ask questions we don’t know exactly how to answer,” Mal nods.

“No, it’s not that I don’t know how to answer the questions. I’ve had his whole life to prepare for them, I know _exactly_ what to say.” Regina bristles and combs a hand through her hair, then lets out a slow exhale, deflating a bit as she admits, “It’s that I hate the fact he’s asking about his biological parents at all. I want to be... I just wish I could be enough.”

“You are!” Mal stirs her tea and rolls her eyes at her friend. “That’s not why he’s asking.”

“He wants to track them down. He asked if I thought his mom and dad would want to meet him.”

Mal cringes slightly before shrugging. “Normal, Regina. It doesn’t mean he loves you any less. He’s just curious.”

“I guess…” Regina concedes, biting her lip and considering the words. She’s making sense.

But she’s dreaded this day forever. Deep down inside, she knows it’s because she doubted her abilities as a mother. The only mother she knew was cruel and uncaring, critical and traumatizing. Regina worried something in her genetics or upbringing would prevent her from being a proper mother. Like there was some magical thing she should be doing, this key to fixing everything that if she only did it, Henry would feel complete.

“He loves you. He is just at that age where he’s starting to question things.”

“Yeah,” Regina sighs. “I think it’s more than a fleeting curiosity. I have no doubt that even if his biological parents stay out of his life like they're supposed to, he will eventually track them down himself. He wants to know what they are like.”

“Okay,” Mal frowns. “Let’s deal with that situation when it comes. For now, why do you think Robin is likely to attempt to contact Henry without your approval? Is that your gut feeling, or was there something explicit you were feeling that you haven’t told me, or—”

“No, it’s… he was actually completely non-threatening. And respectful, too. He was just poking at something tender.”

Mal nods. “So, if you leave him alone, you think he will, too? No legal intervention necessary?”

Regina looks at her skeptically. Mal arguing for no legal intervention is decidedly _un-_ Mal.

“Okay, so I don’t think the guy is going to pull anything,” Mal admits, brushing her hair behind her ear, “and here’s why.” She straightens her posture and rubs a small wrinkle out of her skirt, her face takes on that stern, confident look Regina recognizes from when Mal is working. Mal continues, making her case. “He tried to schedule a meeting at your place of work. He smartly avoided your child so much as overhearing you on the phone with him. He left when you told him to leave. He made no threats. It has been three days, and there hasn’t been a word from him. It’s all very uncharacteristic of the type of guy you’d have to worry about. And, fine, I kind of feel bad for him. Sorry. It’s just a shit situation to be in.”

“I know,” Regina even surprises herself by admitting it. She slumps forward, elbows on the table and groans.

“I’d lose my mind if I knew I had some sort of long lost child out there. I would have done what he did, at a minimum. I probably would have killed Ella, too. Hell, I feel pretty murderous toward her now.”

Mal chuckles. “So, what’s your plan? Just forget this happened and move on?”

She should. She absolutely should. But as Regina thinks of Robin’s face, so mind glowingly devastated, timid yet desperate, when she thinks of the son he might have, a brother of Henry’s she’d be denying him the chance to meet…

Well, it’s not an easy decision.

.::.

A week after seeing the mother of his child, this Regina Mills, Robin is still reeling.

He has not even fully accepted the news of having another child. It is difficult to grasp, and he’s not sure who he should even talk to about this.

Probably a therapist. But for now, it shouldn’t be his parents, they don’t need to know they have a grandchild they will never meet. That will only hurt them. Most of his friends would be more upset than he was (especially since they all hated Carmella).

He wants someone to calm him down, not rile him up.

Robin doesn’t expect to ever hear from the mother of his first child (Regina or Carmella, as it were) ever again. But it turns out he is wrong to believe either of them are entirely out of his life.

Carmella calls a week later. Roland is with him now, but his son is young and fully wrapped up in a movie, so he’s able to sneak away and answer it.

“Did you see him?” she asks.

“No,” Robin scowls. “I met with the adoptive mother. It couldn’t have gone more terribly. She doesn’t want me to have any part in seeing Henry.”

Carmella doesn’t even miss a beat before asking, “But she can’t do that, can she?”

Robin furrows his brow. “She’s his mum.”

“And you are his dad,” Carmella reminds. “You never gave away those rights, so you can see him. If she won’t let you can’t you like, sue or something?”

“That’s not how it works,” Robin grumbles. Admittedly, he did look it up and, as suspected, he had no rights on the matter despite being denied an opportunity to make the adoption decision himself. Besides, “I wouldn’t take him from her even if I did have a right to, Ella. She’s the only parent he’s known for his entire life. How would that be good for him?”

There’s silence on the other end, then a soft sob. “I just thought because you didn’t ever truly give him away you could take him back if you wanted,” she breathes.

“No, Ella, you ruined any chance I had with him,” he snaps back.

“You don’t know that, you could try, you could go to a judge, or…”

Carmella keeps talking but Robin tunes out. She’s being oddly committed to this and he can’t help but wonder why.

“Ella,” he says sternly, “Were you hoping I’d take custody of him so _you_ could see him?”

Her silence is all he needs to confirm.

“Fuck you, Carmella,” he says, grimacing when realizing his son is very much in earshot. “I’m not going to fix the mess you’ve made.”

“I was scared and alone when I made the decision! I was coming off drugs, I wasn’t in my right mind!” Carmella cries. “I wouldn’t have given him up, I would have—”

“He’s nine years old, Ella. He doesn’t know you or want anything to do with you. With either one of us. You made your bed. Feel free to lie in it. And if you can get over yourself, remember that I’ve got far more to be upset about than you.” He makes sure Roland is watching tv and not listening as he adds, “I lost so much because of you. Roland and I both did.”

He hangs up, feeling rage well up in him, but he can’t go out for a run or hit a punching bag until he settles. He’s an adult with a son. So he breathes in and out, internally counting each breath until he gets to eighteen and he feels better.

He’s angry, he is sad, but he remembers Regina, the beautiful woman who so fiercely defended her son and _knows_ he is in good hands. That woman loves her son more than herself and was willing to kill for him. Robin just knows it. And that’s good. That’s the type of parent he would want for his son.

He wishes it could be more, but, as it is now, he has to accept he’s never seeing his boy.

His phone is buzzing moments later. A number he doesn’t recognize.

He throws his head back and tries to get himself together. To put all of this out of his mind and stay normal.

He thinks he’s managed to make his voice sound downright pleasant as he answers the phone with a, “Hello, this is Robin Locksley.”

“Mr. Locksley. This is Regina Mills.”

Her voice is not the strong, stern one he remembered. This voice is more vulnerable, it wavers, hitches.

What on earth could she possibly want?

His heart catches in his throat, and he can’t find the words to say a thing until she asks, “Mr. Locksley? Are you there? I assume you remember me?”

“Yes,” Robin manages to say. “I’m… sorry, for how things went back then.”

She doesn’t acknowledge the apology at all, just moves on and says, “Well, I think we should meet again. I think there are important things to discuss.”

And once again, Robin is left speechless.


	4. Chapter 4

Regina’s stomach is in knots as she sits and waits in her usual booth at Granny’s.

At least she has the home-court advantage here.

And she had the good sense to arrive early, so she has the power in this conversation.

She’s not sure why she decided to see Robin Locksley again. Something told her she had to, that she needed the closure and so did he. She’s learned to trust her gut over the years. All her bad decisions have gone against her instincts.

Regina spots Robin through the window as he walks toward the door (it’s raining out and he forgot an umbrella, he’s underneath the porch outside Granny’s, running fingers through wet hair, shaking out excess water on his jacket, wiping his shoes before entering).

The bell on the door rings, and it seems to startle him, the way he looks back at it, cringes, shrinks into himself.

God, he’s as nervous as she is.

“Mr. Locksley,” she calls, waving him over.

Robin smiles and gives a little wave back as he walks toward her. His wet shoes squeak on the linoleum and she can tell the noise bothers him. He even murmurs an apology as he takes a seat across from her.

“Hello,” Regina smiles, her heart pounding.

She had forgotten that he’s attractive (of course the father of her baby would be, her Henry was a beautiful baby and an adorable child, Carmella was pretty and the father is gorgeous, it makes sense).

“Please, call me Robin,” he smiles, though she can tell it doesn’t quite meet the eyes. Looks forced.

“You must be wondering why I wanted to see you after throwing threats and practically throwing you out of my office by your hair,” Regina starts simple. She sips her coffee and watches him laugh nervously and scratch the back of his head.

“Yeah,” Robin drawls. “I was surprised to get your phone call, to say the least.”

“I need you to know,” Regina shifts to her most authoritative tone, her shoulders squared, eyes narrowed into him. “I’ve consulted an attorney on this matter. And if you dare file anything to invalidate the adoption—”

“I’d never do that!” Robin says a bit too loudly. He looks around to see if he’s gathered an audience (he hasn’t, thank god) then lowers his voice and leans forward. “I would never do that. My ex-wife, the mother of my child? Marian. She was adopted at a young age. I know how she feels about the matter. I’d never take your son from his home, Regina. No matter how awful and unfair this feels to me, I only want what’s best for him. And I know ripping him from his mother is not in his best interest.”

“Right.” Regina hesitates and clears her throat, “But you need to know, even taking my son for one day a year? That is taking him away from me. You don’t get my son for _any_ amount of time.”

Robin nods. “I will respect whatever you say. You’re his mum. I’m… I would have wanted…” he sighs and throws his head into his hands, laughing into his palms for a moment. When he looks up, his eyes look a bit shiny. “I would have wanted to be a dad to him. Had I known. But I know I can’t be now. I know that. I just… I wanted to reach out, maybe just for closure, maybe just so I knew he was in good hands. And it seems like he is, you, you are protective of him in the right way, and you’re the damn mayor, I mean, how much better could things get for him?”

That draws a smile out of her that she can’t hide. “So… I thought about your situation, and as long as we are _clear_ that you have no right to him and you are _not_ his father—”

“Well, let’s be clear. I’m his biological father. I’m not a parent, but I am a father, in a sense of the word.”

She rolls her eyes. “You only share DNA. You have no claim to him.”

“On that, we agree,” Robin nods sadly.

“So since you are aware you have no rights to him, and you are not trying to take him,” Regina continues with a frustrated sigh, “well… I was thinking about your situation and how I reacted to it. And it was unfair of me to accuse you of being… sexually irresponsible.”

“I could have been more careful,” Robin concedes, clasping both his hands. “I mean, we used protection, but…” he cringes at his own words, his face reddening, “God, you don’t need the details on how your son was made, I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Regina chuckles, and it’s true, it is, it actually added some much-needed levity to the situation. “In any case, I’m glad you weren’t so careful. Gave me Henry.”

“Right,” Robin says, sounding a bit jealous but truly trying to put on a brave face.

He looks like a puppy dog, actually, in some ways. With those big blue, sad eyes, desperate for something, anything he can get.

“You know what?” Regina asks, combing some of the hair out of her face, “I bet you want to know about him. Feel free to ask about him. I’ll answer the best I can.”

“Can I see a picture?” Robin asks almost immediately.

A picture. Okay. _That_ she can do.

She takes out her phone and opens the Henry - favorites album.

She scrolls all the way to the oldest pictures in the album, the ones from when Henry was a newborn, then hands it over to Robin. “You can see _all_ of the pictures. His evolution from just born to… oh about a week ago.”

Robin chuckles and eagerly looks through her phone.

For a few moments, oddly, she forgets that he’s a near stranger and poses a very real threat to her happiness. As they order lunch, she’s just a proud mom with an eager audience, telling him stories behind the photos he shows her. She watches him flip to a certain picture and then the color seems to drain from his face.

“Oh,” he says softly. “Oh.”

“What?” Regina asks, grabbing the phone back. It’s a picture of Henry at about three years old. He is sitting on a children’s chair reading a book. Other chairs are placed in a circle, each a home to a different stuffed animal.

“Storytime,” Regina laughs, “He decided to read to his stuffed animals the way his teachers read to him and his classmates.”

Robin doesn’t answer. He is too busy l frantically scrolling through his own phone. She’s not sure he’s listening. “Robin? Am I keeping your interest? Because if not, we can move on. This was only ever for your benefit—”

“Here!” Robin proclaims, passing his phone to her.

She frowns and looks at the screen.

It’s a picture taken of another picture, one of the printouts from before everything was digitalized.

A little boy with almost the same haircut as Henry is sitting in a child’s seat. Just like Henry, his leg is crossed, his right ankle over his left knee, a book balanced on top. He has an identical expression as Henry, this concentrated grimace, his head cocked at an angle, torso bent slightly forward, his left hand grips his foot, too. Just like Henry.

It’s not just the looks, but the body language that’s so similar it takes her breath away.

“I was three,” he explains. Regina doesn’t answer, she’s still processing.

“That’s not all,” Robin says, taking the phone back and scrolling some more. “This is my son, Roland. A few years ago.”

There is a boy of about two or three, dark brown locks curling around his face, sitting in a child’s chair in the same position, a large book in his lap, bent over it and holding his crossed leg the exact same way Robin and Henry had.

She hates it, sometimes. The way genetics can come and kick her in the ass. Henry is hers. She’s spent nearly every moment of her life with him, and this man… this man hasn’t even met him and already Henry is imitating him, even without knowing it...

Damn it.

“My mother's facebook wall is full of more of these old pictures, she’s always trying to find something similar to whatever Roland does. The boy doesn’t look much like me, but she’s always saying he has my mannerisms.”

“I’m torn between wanting to see them all and… not wanting to see anymore,” she admits.

“Why?” Robin asks, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Regina sighs, “I just… Henry and I don’t have any baby pictures that match like this.”

“Are you quite sure?” Robin asks, tilting his head sympathetically. “I wouldn’t know had my mother not been rooting through old pictures. Kids pick up the mannerisms of their parents. If you’d ask your mom—”

“I don’t speak to my mother anymore,” Regina says quickly before she can think better of revealing the secret. “Haven’t in years.”

“Oh, Jesus. I’m sorry to hear that.” Robin leans back, obviously genuinely upset by this news.

“I’m not in the habit of telling people that,” Regina tells him sternly. “It’s personal. She was cruel to me in my childhood and it continued all my life until I finally had to cut her off. I’m not ashamed of it, or anything. But I’m a politician and a poor mother-daughter relationship wouldn’t play well.”

“I won’t say a word,” Robin promises. “It’s your business. I’m glad Henry doesn’t have anyone cruel in his life. Though,” he sighs, but says nothing, seemingly deciding to forego what he was about to say.

“What?” Regina asks.

“Nothing. It’s nothing I have a right to speak about.” But Regina urges him to just say it, that she needs his honesty, and that seems to matter to Robin, so he speaks. “I just have lots of fond memories of my grandparents. I was thinking that it is a shame that Henry doesn’t have that. But I didn’t mean to make that sound critical, or—”

“You didn’t.” Regina bites her lip and shakes her head. Robin sounded worried, maybe a bit curious, but he doesn’t seem to be accusing her of denying Henry anything. “I think of that often, how he doesn’t have grandparents. In fact, Henry doesn’t have a lot of family in the traditional sense of the word. He really only has me, my half-sister and her husband. But it’s a small town, and he has a lot of others. The owner of this diner, she’s the person he calls Granny. I have a close friend that has a daughter. They think of each other as cousins. He has a family, of sorts, just not one that’s related to me.”

Her words seem to brighten Robin, a grin spreads on his face. “That’s great. I’m glad.”

“Any other questions?”

“I…”. He bites his lip. “Carmella, she...” Regina watches his adam apple bob, his eyes grow wet. “Fuck, this is so hard. She was an addict, and she told me she was able to quit the hard stuff during the pregnancy, but I have my doubts, I just wonder, is Henry okay? Are there any effects of that?”

“No,” Regina beams with pride. “I knew her situation when I agreed to the adoption. I knew about the methadone clinic, I knew she might not be able to stay well, and I risked it. She chose me as a single parent so she also risked a lot. If he had some illness, some bad syndrome from the drugs, I would have happily raised him just the same. But Carmella, she did well with that. Henry is a very typical nine year old. He’s a very normal, social child. He hates math, but other than that he excels in school.”

“Well, math is a bit shit, isn’t it?” Robin asks, his voice cracking. He wipes at his cheek and she realizes just asking this question has him crying. He plasters a forced smile onto his face. “I would not be able to forgive myself if he had come out ill from the effects of drugs or alcohol. I know if I had stayed, if I had discovered she was pregnant, I could have kept her clean for nine months.”

She tries not to feel defensive, but the first thought she can think of is the fact that Henry didn’t need Robin, not at all. He did not then and does not now. He did just fine without him.

“Henry turned out perfect,” Regina is all she can say, trying to mask her annoyance.

“Yes, he did,” Robin nods. “Can I… can I see more of the pictures? What he looks like now?”

Regina nods. “Can I see some of your son?” Robin nods and hands over his phone. “Of course.”

They don’t look alike, Henry and Roland. Not at all. Regina sees some pictures of Roland with his mum, and she’s quite different from Carmella, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed waif. Roland’s mother is most likely not caucasian, though Regina isn’t sure of her ethnicity. 

Roland’s mother is also beautiful. She’s passed down her dark hair and dark eyes to her son. She doubts his curls are from Robin, either. In fact, it appears nothing is from Robin at all except, perhaps, those dimples.

“He’s adorable,” Regina whispers, scrolling through the pictures carefully.

“So is your son.”

Regina looks up at Robin appreciatively, who is completely absorbed in the images on her phone. He is saying all the right things, but particularly that phrase. _Your son_. It might not have been easy to call Henry _hers_ when she can tell part of Robin thinks of him as his. But it is a nice gesture.

“Thank you,” Regina says, clearing her throat, “I have some questions for you, actually.”

“Fire away,” Robin winks. “I’m an open book, though it seems you may know a bit already. You knew where I worked, right?”

Regina’s cheeks heat and she tries not to cringe. In fact, she's done a lot of googling of Robin Locksley, and it seems he’s done none of her. It seems like an invasion of privacy, so she ducks her head and says, “Sorry about that.”

“It's understandable,” Robin nods.

She asks about his childhood, about his relationship with his parents first. Robin loves his parents, and they seem like a thoroughly loving if borderline stifling, pair. Both of them moved from England to America so they could be close to Roland, and as Robin concedes, giving up that free healthcare wasn’t an easy decision, but they had the ability and opportunity, his mother holding dual citizenship and all, so they went back to New England and have lived here ever since.

“My dad is able to telecommute. My mum was a nurse, could be one here, but they don’t quite need the money, so she’s just been staying home. She babysits Roland a bit after school for Marian and me.”

“And Marian, she is your ex?”

Robin nods. “We divorced about two years ago. We get on just fine, we aren’t the best of friends but we both have Roland’s best interest in mind. She lets my mum take him after school so we save on aftercare, we split custody 50/50. She’s a very good person. Just not a good person for me, it turns out.”

Regina is all too aware of that situation, having a good number of good people who didn’t pair well with her as a partner. It’s not easy to admit, it can hurt a bit.

She wonders if it also pains him to admit a good person wasn’t the right fit for him, or whether he’s fully moved on.

Those are far too personal. So is the question, “Are you seeing anyone?” but it's a question she finds she really wants to know the answer to. He’s not wearing a ring.

Does his relationship status matter, though? Or is she only curious because he’s very good looking and a part of her is appreciating those looks a bit too much? No, she thinks better of asking it, opting instead to ask, “Does Marian know about this whole thing — with Henry?”

Robin shakes his head. “I suppose if you had let Roland meet Henry I would tell her, but we aren’t really close friends like that anymore. It doesn’t seem relevant right now.”

Regina nods. “Have you confided in anyone? About this, I mean.”

“My friend, John,” Robin shrugs. “That’s it, really. I’m a private person.”

“You must be so angry with Carmella,” Regina murmurs. “I’ve been thinking about your situation and I have no idea what I'd do if I were in your shoes.”

Robin nods. “I’m angry, yes. And feeling a little lost. But this really does help,” he smiles, looking at her phone, at whatever picture he sees on it. “I know he’s well cared for, I know he’s got a great mum. That’s a relief. And you know you can contact me if you need me for any reason, right? Anything I can do, even just as your friend, not as a biological part of Henry. I want to do it. I owe it to him.”

Regina nods. “I… I wanted to propose something. But I’m not making any promises.”

“Okay,” Robin says, squirming a bit and clasping his hands. “What is this proposal?”

“Henry has been asking about his biological parents lately,” Regina explains. “I’ve always been very honest with him. I’ve always been able to say that I never met you, that I don’t know anything about you. If he asks again, I won’t lie. I’ll have to tell him about you. He may want to meet you. And if you can be clear on your role and not try to take him from me, _no_ attempts to get even the most meager of visitation schedules—”

“That is entirely off the table,” Robin assures. “Look, if someone decided they have a claim to Roland and tried to gain any right over him, I’d move heaven and hell to keep them from doing that. I know what you must be feeling. Though you have to appreciate how _I_ feel. Finding out I have a son I never knew about hasn’t been emotionally easy on me.”

Regina nods. “If you do meet my son, you have to keep all that under the surface,” she directs. “And not a bad word about his biological mother. I don’t want him being unduly angry or upset at her. Even if she deserves it. I only want him to believe his biological parents were good people so he never has to doubt every part of him and good.”

Robin exhales slowly and agrees. “Regina, if you grant me this kindness I swear you won’t regret it. I can’t thank you enough for even considering it.”

“I am probably being an idiot.” Regina sighs. “There’s no reason you should be in our lives. But now that I know…” she shakes her head, looking at Robin’s phone and the picture of Roland that is on the display. “Now that I know he has this adorable brother, it doesn’t seem fair to keep this information from him.”

Robin smiles and it’s almost infuriating. It’s a truly dazzling, beautiful smile. He is probably one of those men who’ve never truly been held accountable for anything in his whole charmed, beautiful life.

She should really hate him. It annoys her that she doesn’t.

“I’m going to talk to Henry,” she decides. “But I’d like him to meet you. And maybe Roland, if that goes well?”

“I would love that,” Robin nods, looking a bit unsure. “Except…”

Regina raises an eyebrow.

Robin bites his lip. “I want to see Henry more than I can say. If you decide we shouldn’t see one another again, I’ll live. But if I tell Roland he has a brother and he meets him, gets all excited and then can never see him again? Roland would be devastated. As much as I want him to meet his brother, I have to protect him. Just like you have to protect Henry.”

Oh, he’s a good father. It radiates off of him, the way he looks when he talks about Roland. Of course, he has this concern. She would too, absolutely That doesn’t make it easier to navigate around, though.

“If the siblings meet, you want some type of assurance,” she says slowly.

Robin nods. “Not for me. For him.”

It’s more than fair to ask for that. He doesn’t know her, doesn’t have the first idea what sort of parent she is, and she hasn’t shown Robin much compassion, so how would he guess he’d have any for her son?

“I know I don’t always give a good impression,” Regina says, swallowing thickly. “My political opponents… they seized on it. I come across as aggressive. Angry. Unkind.”

Robin starts to object but she holds her hand out to silence him.

“I know how I treated you when we first met. I know you went through something unimaginable, and I reacted terribly to it, and I haven’t been kind. I know that.”

“You’ve been plenty kind today,” Robin insists, “It’s quite alright, I can understand—”

She shoots him a stern look and holds up her hand again. Now is not the time for him to talk.

“I’ll admit it. I’m not a nice person. Nice people don’t get far in life, at least not in my line of work. But as demanding as unkind and… robotic as I may be—”

He objects again, saying _you’re not robotic,_ but he hasn’t heard what the focus groups have said about her. She already knows how she comes across, and she’s made peace of it.

“I would never, _ever_ hurt a child,” Regina says firmly, looking into his eyes. “You need to protect your son, and I understand. But trust me, if you want Roland to meet Henry, know that I will be careful with his heart.”

Robin looks thoroughly touched. He grabs her hand from across the table and squeezes it. “I don’t think you’re any of the things you’ve just described. And I know I just met you, but I do trust you. And thank you. For understanding about my son. He’s a sensitive little boy.”

“Well, he’s lucky,” Regina smiles. “He has a wonderful father.”

Robin’s dimpled smile lights up the diner, those deep dimples infuriatingly adorable.

“Thank you. I think Henry is rather lucky, too.”

She can feel her cheeks heat. Hopefully, no one is watching her, watching the curiously unwed mayor blush like a schoolgirl while sharing a meal with the cute guy from out of town. Oh, the rumors would fly then.

Perhaps people would stop theorizing that she and Mal are secretly dating. Though she will rather miss the whispers about her being a closeted lesbian. It made her life sound interesting and provided a normal reason for why a woman with a busy, all-consuming career would choose to become a single mom. Why a rather attractive, powerful woman was still single at her age.

The theory that she is gay was far better than the one that’s closer to the truth — that she’s a shrewd bitch and is too selfish and controlling for a normal relationship.

She’s probably so easily affected by him because he’s Henry’s father and that’s messing with her mind. And maybe it’s a little bit because it’s the first time she’s been alone with a single man having a conversation that’s not work-related in… forever.

It’s not _him_ personally. It can’t be him, she cannot have a crush on her child’s biological father.

She has to get over this and quick. The easiest way would be getting to know him a bit better.

“If you don’t mind, I think we’ve talked enough about this for the time being,” Regina smiles, sinking into that proper, professional demeanor she assumes at public functions. “Let’s not discuss possibilities for the future regarding you and Henry anymore. There has to be something lighter we can talk about.”

“Mm, definitely. Did you grow up here in Storybrooke?”

“Yes,” she smiles. “Well, I spent a bit of my childhood here anyway. We lived here from when I was fourteen until I was eighteen. My mother remarried and moved to Augusta not long after I went off to New York for college. When I graduated, a friend told me they were looking for a city councilman in town. I applied for a job in local government and ran for office. I’ve been working for Storybrooke ever since.”

“Where did you live before here?”

“Suburbs outside of Boston. My father died and my mother decided we needed a change. And this _was_ a change. Coming from a big city and moving to a small town meant I had to adjust a bit. But I grew to like it here. And now of course, well, this town is my life.”

“I grew up in a small town outside of London. Went to college in New York as well. Fell in love with the city and was determined to stay there for the rest of my life. But then I fell in love, she was from Maine, and I left the city to follow her.”

“That sounds like quite the love story,” Regina smiles.

“It is. But like most love stories, it doesn’t exactly have a happy ending.”

They trade stories of past relationships. Robin talks about Marian the way an ex-husband should, with respect; he is polite and complimentary but clearly no longer in love with her.

When he asks if she’s ever been married, Regina decides to tell him about Daniel (if he googles her, he’ll find out anyway), but tries to keep the story short and emotionless.

To do so, she echoes part of her political stump speech on the issue.

“We married young. Found out about the cancer when we were doing fertility testing. Things progressed fast after that. We had two wonderful years as husband and wife. I’m grateful for those years.”

She keeps her voice as flat and matter-of-fact as she can. She’s had to tell the story of Daniel so many times both in her professional and personal life that she can almost get through it without feeling like she’s shattered inside.

Robin has not heard the story and had certainly not expected it. He looks like he’s damn near about to cry for her. She didn’t expect this display of emotion. No one ever asks about Daniel to ask how she is — not anymore. They ask to pry, to understand why she's not married, what happened, they don't care about how she is coping. She's expected to be over it by now.

But Robin grabs her hand and takes it in both of his and squeezes tight. “I am so, so sorry, Regina. I had no idea.”

“It was a long time ago. It’s fine,” Regina shoots him that smile, the plastic and overused one she’s grown accustomed to. It’s part of the facade, the protective mask she uses when she has to speak in public.

“Of course it’s not,” Robin says, locking into her eyes. “Of course it’s not, no matter how long ago it was.”

She drops it then, the “pretending to be strong” bit she’s cultivated over the years.

“It’s not fine,” she agrees, blowing out a breath of air. “But I got through it.”

“I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose someone to such a serious disease so young,” Robin murmurs. “One day, you’re planning a family, and the next…”

Regina’s eyes fill with tears. She's talked about Daniel so often with the public, so much, focused on compartmentalizing the pain and the emotion from the story, so she never appears weak. But, then, this is a conversation with.... well, a friend it seems. And her guard is down.

“It was awful. I don’t think I ever fully believed the diagnosis or the odds. I was so optimistic back then. We were trying to adopt… but then things escalated quickly, and I lost him.”

“But you still adopted, afterward.”

Regina nods, wiping at a stray tear that had no right to leak out of her eye like that. “My son. Henry Daniel Mills... should have been Colter. But I never took his name. I was too feminist for that, I suppose. He is the reason I looked into adoption, when we were looking to build a family together. I tell Henry stories of him, and even though he died before Henry was born, I still think of him as Henry’s father. I know that’s odd. But you should know that, I suppose.”

“Well he is a father of sorts,” Robin surprises her by saying. “He encouraged you to adopt, you were seeking a child — same as any of us trying to conceive, right? He just died before you were able to adopt. Like fathers who pass before their child is born. It makes sense.”

“It’s silly,” Regina counters, stirring the tiniest bit of cream into her coffee. “I know how it looks to people. My campaign has told me as much. But I can’t very well hide it from you, so...” she shrugs as she lets the sentence trail off.

“It must be hard to be a mayor, a woman, a mother, and a widow all at once,” Robin says somberly.

“It’s not too hard at all. I handle it just fine.” Regina goes into attack mode, ready to argue for her competency and abilities because he’s mentioning things that are weaknesses, they’ve been seen as much and she’s been warned to defend her abilities over all these “concerns”.

Robin gives her a small, sad smile. “I know. I’m just impressed, that’s all. I don’t mean to offend. I don’t have any nefarious thoughts here. I’m just admiring the mother of my—of the boy with my DNA.”

Regina exhales slowly and tries to remember that not everyone is here to attack her, to take what is hers.

It just so happens that’s been her interaction with _most_ people lately.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes in and purses her lips, really looks at him. “It’s hard to… to talk honestly about things that people can use against you. I guess I’ve gotten used to thinking that everyone is looking for a weak spot to poke at.”

“Well, I’m not,” he sighs, tilting his head. “And I’m not one of your constituents. I’m not gathering information to determine whether to vote for you. I just want to get to know you. And I want Henry to be in the best possible situation, which means for all purposes you should consider me your biggest fan. The better his mother does, the better he is able to do, right?”

That’s a good point, she supposes. But she still has this need to hide from him, the same as she does with everyone else.

“I’m a private person,” she explains. “With my emotions, I mean. I grieve rather privately and celebrate privately.”

“I get it,” Robin smiles. “Share what you feel comfortable with. I’m not here to judge.”

And Regina isn’t sure, but she feels that he really isn’t. The rest of the conversation flows so easily, so naturally. He talks about vacationing instead, and they trade stories about living in New York for college. It turns out they frequented many of the same places.

She loses track of time until Granny comes by and winks at her, a pot of coffee in her hands. “I’ll fill you up again, but I figured I’d warn you this is your fifth cup in case you wanted to switch to decaf. You’ve been awfully chatty.”

Regina doesn’t really mind Eugenia Lucas’ suspicious, teasing glance. The woman isn’t being nosy or trying to get at her — she’s one of the few people Regina trusts. Still, she’s been talking to a near stranger for — Regina checks the clock on her phone — shit — three hours now.

Robin glances at his watch and chuckles.

“Are we in some sort of alternate reality where time moves suspiciously fast?” he asks. “Because it can’t be this late.”

Regina laughs and quips, “Funny because usually, people say time stands still in places like this.”

“Not when the company is this pleasant,”

There’s something in his voice that makes everything sound a bit flirty. Or she’s just been so stripped of normal human interaction she’s reading into things.

He can’t be flirting with her, and if he is, it doesn’t mean he actually likes her. People like Robin don’t like her. If he _is_ flirting, it’s only to try to get more time with Henry out of her, or to trick her, or… something.

But she rather likes Robin and doesn’t want to think he has suspect motives, so she decides he’s not flirting.

He’s just an exceptionally kind man and a good father who was placed in an unimaginably awful situation and is trying to do the best he can.

He leaves soon after they realize the time — he has a two-hour drive back to Augusta, after all, and it’s getting cold out, meaning today’s rain could freeze and make roads difficult.

She finds herself not yet wanting to say goodbye. But it’s not as if she won’t see him again, she thinks. And whereas before the prospect of being tethered to him by their children made her feel suffocated and concerned, at this moment, right now, she really doesn’t mind.

She and Robin part ways in the parking lot. He starts to go in for a hug but clearly thinks better of it and awkwardly puts out his hand to shake instead. She’s definitely not the type of woman who you’d call “huggable”. In fact, she’s fairly certain she’s the opposite of that. Robin approaching her at all seems a bit odd.

He’s not scared of or intimidated by her like others are. And he treats her less like the cold-hearted bitch she is, or at least, the cold-hearted bitch persona she’s adopted for so long she’s rather certain it is who she is at this point.

Still, she cannot deny that Robin makes her feel a bit warmer, a bit kinder. Younger, maybe.

She tries not to think about what that means as she drives home.


	5. Chapter 5

“So, she’s going to let you see your son. How kind.”

John is unimpressed with Regina, and it’s frustrating as hell.

“Listen, I don’t like saying this, but he’s not legally my son,” Robin groans, “and that’s not Regina’s fault. It’s Carmella’s. Regina is just the person who adopted my boy and gave him a wonderful life, from what I can tell.”

“Carmella is a real piece of work,” John sighs. “But I’m talking about the woman raising your child. You didn’t do anything wrong, and she’s treating you like you’re some sort of criminal. Where the fuck is her compassion?”

“She’s was worried that I was going to try to take her son from her. It’s understandable that she was harsh at first. She’s softened a lot, actually. We had such a great time together at lunch, actually—”

“Yes, you keep going on about this __great time,”__ John parrots Robin’s words back, sounding concerned, “I’m concerned you’re falling for her.”

“I’m not, not in that way!” Robin protests. “I like her. She’s a good mother, and… I feel like I understand her. She hasn’t had an easy life. She loves Henry more than anything, I can tell. And she’s interesting, and she’s—”

“— she’s hot,” John finishes for Robin.

“I didn’t say that!” Robin defends. He’s made a point to specifically avoid talking about how beautiful she is. In fact

“I just googled her, dummy. I was going to tease you for being seduced by this mayor, but I don’t know, being seduced by her seems like a treat.”

“Don’t,” Robin fights the protectiveness and possessiveness he feels despite having no right to feel either.

“Don’t get fooled by a pretty face,” John counters.

“I won’t,” Robin sighs. “She is beautiful, but she’s a lot more than just that. If you met her you’d trust her, too. And of course she was defensive when I first came into her life. She’s a single parent, and I was coming in like I had a claim to her baby. Imagine if a guy came up to me one day and said he was Roland’s real father. I’d… I’d lose my mind. I’d be scared and angry, all of it. Worse than she was, actually.”

“That’s a different situation,” John grumbles.

“Still. Think about it. She had every right to behave as she did. She had to get to know me a bit, and that’s what the lunch was about. If I play my cards right, she will trust me enough to be in Henry’s life. And that’s the way to go. Even if I had a shot of getting some sort of right over him in court, he’d resent me, Regina would resent me, and that’s not the relationship I want. This is better.”

“So it’s all about seeing your kid, then?” John asks. “You’re charming her into some time

with your son?”

“I’m establishing a relationship — a friendship — with the mother of my son,” Robin answers.

“Okay, so answer me this. You don’t have a kid with her. She’s just a woman you meet at a work function or a coffee shop or a bar. Do you try to pick her up?”

“I don’t do hypotheticals,” Robin feels his blood pressure rising. He doesn’t want to think about that, about what he’d think of Regina if she wasn’t tied to his son.

“Alright,” John answers as if he’s won and his point has been made (true on both counts). “I’m not trying to be a dick here. I just want you to be careful. She’s this gorgeous woman and the mother of your child, and I can’t even remember the last time you’ve been the slightest bit interested in a woman. It would make sense if you were feeling something for her. But it’s probably best you don’t let yourself get attached that way. That would be pretty messy.”

“I know,” Robin sighs. “I know nothing can happen. But listen, now I’m thinking of the fact that I might be able to see my son, and I want to believe the mother of my son is almost perfect. Because if I think she’s lacking in any department, I’m going to dwell on how I should have been there, and how Carmella ruined everything, and none of that is productive because I can’t do a single thing about it. The law is clear. I can’t invalidate this adoption.”

“You’re not a lawyer,” John says simply. “Maybe you should get one, just to be one hundred percent sure that there is nothing you can do.”

“Maybe,” Robin agrees, mostly just to shut John up. “In any case, can you be supportive? I need a friend right now.”

“Sorry, I’m doing a shit job at this,” John sighs. “I’m just worried about you.”

“I get it. I’m very lucky to have someone who cares this much,” Robin smiles, his mood picking up a little. “I’m surprised you’re not telling me to forget Henry and not get involved at all.”

“Give me some credit. I know you better than that,” John laughs. “It would be less messy and complicated, but you’ve never really shied away from either, have you? And arguing with you to forget about the fact you have a kid? That’s advice I’d give to Killian. Or Will, even. You’re a lost cause on that front.”

“True,” Robin agrees. “It would be easier if I just walked away.” He thinks of Roland, of the brother he doesn’t yet know just existing there, he thinks of the son he doesn’t know and everything he might need or want in the future, and there’s really no sense entertaining this idea. He’s not walking away.

Besides, no matter how many good points John has made, Robin has to admit a part of him is thinking far too much about Regina, in ways far beyond her role as Henry’s mother.

.::.

“What did I do?” Henry asks, so perplexed Regina is sure he hasn’t done a thing wrong in weeks. Usually, when Regina tells him they need to talk it __is__ more of a lecture about his bad behavior so she can understand his frustration.

“Nothing, I’m not having one of __those__ talks, honey. You aren’t in any trouble.”

“Oh,” Henry says, his face going from defensive to confused. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s nothing __wrong__ , I just have some news. Remember when you asked me to tell you if I ever found something out about your biological father?”

Henry’s eyes go wide, his voice high and hopeful as he asks, “You found out something about him?”

She had insisted Robin take a DNA test before telling Henry. Yet another demand she thought he would scoff at and refuse to do which would give her a reason to get angry with him. But he hadn’t objected in the slightest. He took the test immediately, and Regina was able to get Henry to take one without explaining it was a genetic test (which is true, she didn’t lie, and didn’t have to, he oddly didn’t ask many questions).

Robin was a perfect match. That didn’t surprise Regina, exactly. She knew Robin wouldn’t lie and would have told her if he suspected he might not be the father.

So then she was faced with the proof that, if it weren’t for a drug addicted, vindictive woman, Robin could be raising __her son.__

It’s hard to imagine. If this were a story, Carmella would probably be the villain. Robin the hero and she… she’d be the obstacle he has to overcome to get to his happy ending.

She tries not to think about that, though. Like it or not, her son has a right to know about this. She made a promise.

“You had asked about your birth mother and father, and I told you everything I knew at the time, remember?”

Henry nods, his eyes narrowing. “Yeah…”

“And I promised I’d update you if I ever found out anything else.”

“But you said when the adoption happened you and my birth mom agreed not to talk ever again,” he noted.

“Yes, that was the deal, it is called a closed adoption. And remember, I said that we didn’t know who your birth dad was. He wasn’t there to make that agreement with us.”

“Yeah,” Henry sighs. “You said you didn’t know why he wasn’t there.”

“Right. Well, I found out about the adoption. Your birth dad contacted me.”

Henry’s eyes widen, a smile spreading over his face. “Wait — what? Really? Why now? What did he want to talk about — does he want to see me? Was he nice? Did he ever meet me before? Does he want—”

Regina’s eyes are already far too watery for this conversation, and if she doesn’t reel in her emotions she’s going to be at risk for crying in this conversation. He’s so excited to know more about this birth parent, and it is very cute. But also a bit hurtful.

“So many questions,” Regina laughs. “I’m not sure what to answer first so I’ll just tell you the story, okay?”

Henry nods excitedly. And then that smile fades into a careful frown. “Is he bad?” he asks tentatively as if he’s realizing that is a possibility.

“No, he’s not bad, Henry. He’s not bad at all.”

Henry smiles. “Good.”

“Your dad just found out about you. He didn’t know before. Your birth mother and father were together, but they broke up before your birth mom realized she was pregnant. But she told him recently, and he—”

“How come she didn’t tell him a long time ago?” Henry asks. It’s a question Regina has, too.

“I don’t know, Henry. I just know as soon as he found out he reached out to me. And I know he wants to meet you, as long as you want to meet him.”

“Is he allowed? I thought there was a contract to say they won’t ever see me again.”

“Your birth mom signed that honey, but your dad didn’t sign because he didn’t know about it. Your birth mom agreed to let me adopt you, she did it before she could tell your birth dad.”

“He didn’t give me up for adoption?” Henry asks. “Does he want me back?”

The question makes Regina cringe, because she really doesn’t know the answer and really doesn’t know what answer Henry is hoping for. The answer is most likely __yes, but he can’t have you__. But she’s not about to get into that. “No one is taking you from me, from your home,” Regina says firmly. “You are my son. Your birth dad was interested in meeting you, but that’s up to you. Only if you want to meet him.”

“Have you met him?” Henry asks, his eyes narrowed.

Regina nods.

“So he really is a good guy?” Henry has never seemed the least bit worried about his birth parents. He’s expressed such an interest in knowing them, and now, how timid and afraid he seems.

“He’s a __very__ good guy,” Regina confirms. “I wouldn’t let you meet him if I didn’t know that.”

Henry nods. “So I can really meet him?”

Regina bites her lip to hold back words she should speak, and then she nods.

There are more questions to come, an endless barrage of them regarding every detail about his father Regina can remember, but the moment he asks if he’s really able to meet him, Regina’s only question is answered.

Henry wants to meet his father. And she’s going to let him do it, because she feels for Robin and the situation he is in and because her son deserves to hear from the father who never made the choice to give him up. She is going to let this happen and pray to God taking this leap of faith in another person doesn’t come back to bite them both.

.::.

Robin is shaking as he arrives at the indoor play place. He’s been at places like this for smaller children — Roland is a big fan. This is a bit different. There are plenty of arcade games and interactive sports games like ping pong and air hockey, along with a rock-climbing wall. He’s looked it all up on their website.

Regina felt this place would put less pressure on Henry, so he could get up and take mental breaks with some physical activity. A restaurant seemed too intimate, and Robin had to agree with that. She’s not ready for him to meet at her home, so that was out.

If it was not so cold out, perhaps they could have met at a park.

But it must be indoors, and this is the best venue according to Regina. However, it seems awkward to step into a loud, bustling play place swarming with kids to meet his son for the first time.

He’s early, so he buys himself a crappy cup of coffee at the snack bar where he is supposed to meet them and tries not to look as nervous as he is as he waits. Other families are seated all around him as well as other single moms and dads waiting to meet up with their children. Places like these are good for custody swaps, he and Marian have used the little children’s play place to exchange Roland on the weekends, and it appears they aren’t the only ones with that idea.

Looking around only makes him more nervous, so Robin starts distracting himself by answering emails on his phone. It works too well, because the next thing he knows, Regina’s warm, velvety voice is saying his name, her hand delicately on his back.

Robin takes a breath in and looks up to see Regina. She’s casual today, in jeans and a tight red turtleneck, and duck she’s beautiful. John’s warning comes to mind, and he knows it’s wrong to look at her like this, but dear god, does she have to be distractingly beautiful every time he meets her?

“Hi,” he says softly, refusing to look around for Henry, not yet, not until Henry and Regina are ready…

“I’d like you to meet Henry,” Regina smiles, nodding to her left.

There’s the boy from the pictures.

He doesn’t look a thing like Robin, yet he’s undoubtedly his, something in his posture or stance, something in the way he holds himself makes him look like a Locksley. He really is a good looking child.

He’s clinging to his mother a bit, and Robin really wants to soothe him, to tell him he’s not scary, that he won’t bite.

But then if Henry trusts as easily as his mother, there’s really nothing a stranger like him can say to convince him, is there?

“Hi,” Henry says, smiling though his body language is rather reserved. He’s such a sweet-looking boy, Robin stares in his eyes and imagines a world of potential, of things to come and mountains to climb, worlds to conquer.

He is perfect.

“Hello, Henry.”

There’s a bit of a pregnant pause that follows as Robin looks over his expressions. When Henry turns to his mother with a confused expression, Robin snaps into actuation. Robin suddenly feels so self-conscious for the way he’s been silently looking at Henry. But Robin truly is mesmerized, “I’m sorry if I’m staring, it’s just… I can’t believe it’s you.”

Henry smiles wide now, something real and genuine putting his former expression to shame. “I can’t believe I get to meet you. Mom says most adopted kids never meet their birth parents.”

“True,” Robin nods. “But these are special circumstances.”

He’s in awe of the boy’s voice, the cadence of it, the way he moves his hands while he speaks.

God, this boy is his __son.__

“Your eyes are blue,” Henry narrows his eyes. “So are my birth moms. I figured your eyes would be brown, like mine.”

“It rare, but occasionally two blue-eyed parents can have brown eyes sons,” Robin confirms what he too looked up himself.

“Oh,” Henry says, looking a bit disappointed.

“My son Roland has brown eyes, too,” Robin blurts out, immediately regretting it when Henry's eyes go wide.

“You have a son? Wait— does that mean I have a brother?”

Robin turns to Regina trying to convey just how sorry and lost he is with a look.

She doesn’t look amused. Bringing up Roland right away was not part of the plan.

“You have a biological…. half brother,” Regina says slowly.

“What does he look like?” Henry asks excitedly.

Robin takes out his phone and shows Henry, who is absorbed in the pictures. Soon Robin is telling him stories and Henry is laughing and warming up to him. Robin is actually glad he accidentally dropped news of his brother early — it’s lightened the mood, made the boy more animated and comfortable.

“What was your favorite subject when you were my age? Or Roland’s age? Or both!” he asks.

“I think I’ve always liked history the best,” Robin muses.

Regina chuckles as Henry excitedly says, “That’s my favorite, too!”

“My least favorite used to be math. But in college, I actually started to really like it.”

“I hate math,” Henry grimaces. “I’m really bad at it.”

“You are not,” Regina speaks up defensively. “You have good grades, it just isn’t coming naturally for you.”

“You’ll get through it. I did learn some tricks in college. Grew to love it.”

“Maybe you can help me, sometimes,” Henry shrugs.

“Yeah, of course.” His heart almost melts at the opportunity to teach his son something, that aspect of parenting he’s always enjoyed, passing on things he knows, trying to help add a bit of direction, ease, and enjoyment to his son.

Robin looks up at Regina and smiles, but her posture has gone rigid as she gives a forced smile.

Oh, this is hard on her. He tries to be sensitive. If a new parent was stepping in and Roland was asking to be taught by him, Robin would definitely be upset.

But it’s hard to be worried about her when he’s so happy himself.

Because he’s connecting with his son.

He won’t call him that, but as they chat more, he becomes increasingly aware of the fact that this child, this Henry, is __his.__

He laughs at Robin’s bad jokes, shows a genuine interest in what Robin shares, and in so many ways he’s got the posture, the stance, the facial expressions of Robin… of even Roland.

Regina participates, Robin tries to remember to involve her. She even cracks a smile at some of those terrible puns Robin throws in. He can see tenderness in her expression, but there’s also tension and worry radiating off her.

“Do you play air hockey?” Henry asks when the conversation lulls a bit.

“I do indeed,” Robin smiles. “Why, you want to challenge me to a game?”

Henry nods and looks at his mom. “That okay?”

Regina nods slightly, picking invisible pieces of lint off her sweater. Henry excuses himself to the bathroom and says something about being excited to show Robin how good he is.

When he’s out of earshot, Robin clears his throat and says, “Regina, I—”

“Be careful with him,” Regina cuts him off. “He really likes you. He… he loves you already, I think.”

He hears her voice wobble in a way he wouldn’t fathom possible of Regina.

“If you break my son’s heart, I will crush yours,” she warns.

“I won’t, I swear I will never purposely hurt him,” he promises.

She doesn’t look impressed with his promise.

He scratches his head, unsure of what to say. “You’ve raised a wonderful boy, Regina. I am so thankful to you… I guess I don’t even have the right to feel so grateful, but…”

She looks at him, stern and unforgiving. “You definitely have nothing to thank me for.”

Robin scratches his head and exhales slowly. Is there nothing he can say that makes this woman anything other than uncomfortable? “I’m screwing this up, aren’t I? Is there something I did, something I said—”

“No,” Regina says softly. The change in demeanor is shocking. That anger or frustration seems to melt away. Now she looks as unsure and confused on what to say as he does.

He wishes he could hold her, offer her some form of comfort, make her trust him and then shower her with compliments until he earns one of those rare honest smiles out of her.

Fuck, this is trouble. He’s falling for her.

“You did everything right,” Regina admits, pausing and biting her lip for a moment as if trying to properly convey her thoughts. Robin hates himself in this moment for being very much a man and watching her bite that lip with less than pure thoughts. He shouldn’t be having these thoughts at all. This would be a giant mess. Regina clears her throat and says, “You were perfect with him, couldn’t be better. Perfect is a problem. I can tell how much he already looks up to you. He trusts easily, loves easily, my son.”

“It’s something we share,” Robin chuckles, thinking of his own heartache in the past, but also of the connection he already feels to Henry.

“I’m sorry,” Regina sighs. “This isn’t your fault. I agreed to do this. I’m just so…” she looks like she’s trying to find the right word but can’t.

Scared. She looks scared. But Robin can tell she’s the type of woman who doesn’t like to admit to fear.

“Nervous?” he asks.

She seizes on that word and nods. “And it’s hard to see him light up and get so excited talking to you. I knew it would. You aren’t an adopted parent, so it’s hard to explain how it feels when a child cannot stop wondering about his birth parents.”

“Oh, I can understand,” Robin assures. “You’re being incredibly gracious and giving through this. But you’re a wonderful mother. And his only mother. I see the way he looks at you. Do you notice it? Those little looks for reassurance he’d give you before asking some questions? He adores you. I can tell when someone’s a good parent easily. By the way the child looks at the mom. You’re a good parent. You’re irreplaceable. I’m just the person he’s curious about for now.”

“You’re more than that,” she smiles, reaching her hand out to grab his. “You’re very important to him, or the idea of you was, has been for a while. Thank you for taking it so seriously. He’s never had a father, I don’t have any intention of giving him one besides Daniel and Daniel’s memory. I think that might make the idea of his birth father more important.”

“I’m here for whatever he needs. I promise that.”

“You shouldn’t have brought up Roland so quickly. Now he knows he has a brother and he will want to see him. And we didn’t agree to a second meeting,” she scolds.

“I know. I’m sorry. It just came out. It’s hard to __not__ talk about him.”

“I get it,” Regina purses her lips and Robin is struck by how beautiful she is for her the millionth time today, even when lost in thought, “You love talking about him. It is how I can tell you are a good father.” Her voice is sweet and honest and it touches Robin more than he can say. He really likes the mother of his child. He wishes he could know her better, convince her that he isn’t here to destroy her family. He loves the moments where those walls she put up come down. Maybe he will get to know her well enough to where she can burn them down forever.

“What are you looking at?” she asks, looking down her body as if she’s afraid there’s something astray, some flaw he’s focused on.

“You,” he answers swiftly because she’s caught him staring and he’s not going to lie or have her feeling self-conscious. “I’m sorry, I’m just… I am a little bit in awe of you.”

She looks as if she wants to reply with something almost flirtatious but then she notices something behind him, and her behavior shifts, she leans back away from Robin and clears her throat. “There’s Henry. Go have fun.”

Robin snaps himself out of the intimate mood, playfully winks at her and turns toward the boy that he has no business feeling so close to so quickly.

He tries not to think about the fact he’s feeling so strongly about Regina, either.

It would be a very bad idea to fall so hard for both of them, after all.

.::.

They play games, eat awful bowling alley quality nachos, and talk sports. Henry is an active little child, and by the end of the day, Robin is worn out.

Worn out but so happy. There’s a smile plastered to his face he won’t be able to get rid of any time soon.

When Regina mentions it’s time for them to get home to dinner, Robin’s heart clenches at the thought of not seeing him again.

Because there’s no guarantee, is there?

Luckily Henry addresses that before they leave. “We should bring Roland here next time!”

Robin trades a look with Regina. She looks better, actually, she’s brightened a bit since they first met.

“That might be fun, Henry!” Regina says, running her hands through her son’s hair. “I’d love to meet Roland.”

Henry hugs Robin tightly goodbye.

Regina, well, she’s not a hugger, he’s noticed that. But this time when she says goodbye she clasps his hands tightly with each of hers as she tells him, “Have a safe drive home. Thank you for everything. We’ll talk soon.”

Robin’s heart is full as he makes the two-hour drive home.

He has an awkward conversation with Marian ahead of him and her permission on this is not guaranteed, but he doesn’t worry about that.

Right now he’s met his son and he absolutely adores him, and he’s an idiot for thinking this or hoping for this, but after this day, he’s so confident that he will get to be a father of sorts for him, that Henry will spend the rest of his life knowing Robin as family.


	6. Chapter 6

Henry doesn’t stop talking about his “dad” the whole night. Part of her wants to cry tears of joy and relief and the other wants her to wallow in how her son is putting so much trust and love in this new person who never so much as changed a diaper or soothed a fever.

As much as Regina wants to hate him, as much as she knows logically that she shouldn’t trust him, that he could terribly hurt both her and Henry unless at least _one_ of them keeps Robin at a distance.

But she really likes him.

That’s why she is intent on calling him after Henry goes to bed. It was sleeting out when Robin left, the late autumn weather already bitterly cold in Maine, and she was worried about him driving home.

So she calls just to make sure he’s got home safely. That’s all.

“Hello, Regina,” Robin answers. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I heard the storm was worse than it was supposed to be,” Regina mumbles. “I was just making sure you got home okay?”

“I did, yes. I’m an excellent driver in all types of weather. You have my permission to check my driving record if you haven’t already.”

It’s a joke, a clear lighthearted one, but she still answers in mock offense, “Oh, come on, I’m not _that_ bad. I didn’t look at all your public records or anything. Just googled a bit.”

“Mm,” Robin hums, “I’m in bed already but I have the sudden urge to pull up my laptop and do a little digging into you now.”

“Did the thought never cross your mind before?” Regina asks. If she were in his situation she’d be searching social media like crazy trying to find out everything she could about him.

“It did, but I held back. I figured if I found something and unintentionally confessed to looking you up, you might find that creepy and become uncomfortable with me. It was hard, but I resisted.”

“That’s nice of you,” Regina murmurs. “And clever, too.”

“How was Henry after I left?”

“Great,” she sighs, lying down in her bed as she holds her cell phone to her ear. “You made quite an impression on him. You’re surprisingly good at arcade games for an old man, did you know that?”

“I’m also great at football and basketball should your son want to know more about my amazing qualities,” Robin laughs. “I was trying very hard to impress him. I’m glad it worked.”

“There’s this event in our town,” the words tumble out. “I hate it, but every year on the second Saturday of the month there’s a father-son scavenger hunt. The Christmas themed one in December is the best. And lots of people don’t have dads, but they all seem to have uncles or granddads or step-dads or…” her sigh into the phone is probably obnoxious sounding on Robin’s end. “I’m not sure if you have the day free—”

“I’m checking,” Robin interrupts. “Yeah. I’m free.”

“He might not want you there,” Regina warns, “I told him last year to ask my stepsister’s husband, David. But he didn’t want to bother him last year, David has just married my sister and I guess Henry felt awkward. Maybe this year he will want David. It’s a little soon, but, you know, just one year I’d like Henry to not be the only child who has to play with his _mom._ ”

“But you’re a particularly fun mom, aren’t you? Give yourself credit. He may want to do the scavenger hunt with you over anyone else. I imagine he has always enjoyed himself in the past regardless of not having a father involved. I say that because I can’t imagine anyone not enjoying themselves when they are on your team.”

Regina’s heart warms, she shuts her eyes and feels her resolve to keep emotional and physical distance from this man crack and crumble.

“You know, I always win my elections. I always win them, but everyone hates me. Almost everyone, that is. I’m very unlikeable. My team has told me as much. How I keep winning elections confuses them. I think the people see me as a competent bitch. I get things done, so they can look past all my personality flaws.”

Robin snickers. “You’re very likable. Your team is getting some false information.”

“They’ve done polling and research,” Regina scoffs.

Robin seems unimpressed, his voice confident and a bit incredulous as he tells her, “Well it’s clearly flawed. I liked you immediately. Even when you were accusing me of being a bit of a slut.”

Regina snorts, thinking of her first words to him. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. You were protecting your son. That’s an attractive quality, actually. I’m not sure what these oddballs in your town are objecting to. You’re a lovely mom.”

“There is a rumor I adopted him purely for political purposes,” she says ruefully. “So I don’t really run as a mother. I actively avoid talking about him or my role as his adopted parent. I don’t mind what they have said at all. But one day, Henry will hear all this and I don’t want it to hurt him.”

Robin hums thoughtfully, then simply says, “Henry knows you love him. He will never doubt it.”

“I hope not,” Regina mutters.

Her phone pings and she looks at the screen to find a notification from Robin on Instagram. He’s asked to follow her.

Not her official account as mayor, the one full of publicity photos and then inspirational quotes. The locked one that only a handful of people have access to, set up mostly to share photos with family and a few select friends.

“Did you just look me up while we were talking?” she asks through a wide grin.

“I sure did.”

“I’m trusting you,” Regina warns. “I mostly use it for pictures of Henry.”

She accepts his request before she can think better of it.

“So what do you do for the holidays? Any traditions?”

“Thanksgiving is spent with my sister and her family. Henry and I make apple turnovers, one for each invitee. That’s a bit of a tradition. Christmas… well, you should know I am in my second term as mayor. I was elected six years ago. When Henry was three.”

“Oh, wow,” Robin murmurs. “So you’ve been mayor most of Henry’s life.”

“Yep,” Regina breathes into the phone. “Christmas is one of those holidays where politicians are expected to show up everywhere. Tree lighting ceremonies, Christmas pageants, and concerts, soup kitchens, charity drives… My schedule is very full of those events each year. Henry comes with me. But then we do our own Christmas on Christmas Eve. Just the two of us. Dinner and Christmas movies and hot chocolate and Christmas cookies. Last year was the first year we didn’t do Santa, he figured it out just before the holidays. So we open all the gifts on Christmas Eve. What do you do?”

“Oh,” Robin chuckles. “We don’t have a tradition. Marian and I split the holidays as best we can; we alternate who has Roland and who doesn’t. It’s awful, not having your child on Christmas. So we’ve been spending the holiday at my parent’s house for the past two years - all of us. Marian comes as well. Last year she brought her boyfriend, so that was fun. But it’s better than spending the holiday without Roland.”

“What about this year?” Regina asks.

“This year is my year, and this year she’s engaged to the boyfriend, so I’m not quite sure how it will work. She said something about wanting to visit his family. I think she might want to take Roland, but I don’t want to give him up so I’ve not offered.”

“That must be awful, splitting your child like that.” Of all the difficulty of being a single parent, she counts her blessings that she doesn’t have to lose Henry, miss out on important milestones or miss being there when he needs her.

“It’s hard, but you get used to it,” Robin explains. “We FaceTime, we communicate as best we can when he’s not there. His mom is decent about it, actually.”

“I’m too selfish for all that,” Regina sighs. “Too selfish for marriage these days, too. After Daniel died I knew the only way I would get to be a parent is to do it alone.”

“But you would have shared with Daniel,” Robin points out.

“Yeah. I was a different person back then. And… it wouldn’t have felt like giving anything up with him.”

“That’s how the best relationships are supposed to be. That’s how it was before Marian and I split.” The thought of having that type of relationship doesn’t seem possible to Regina. She had it once, and once is more than most will ever have.

“I don’t know,” Regina says, feeling the bitter injustice of the world creeping in, “Sounds complicated. Being alone is easier.”

“It’s easier for sure,” Robin easily agrees before adding, “the right person is always worth the effort, though.”

“I suppose…” she trails off. “I don’t that’s in the cards for me. And that’s just fine. I have Henry, I have friends and family, and I have my career. I really can’t complain.”

“Yes it seems like a rather nice life you have there,” Robin notes. “I shouldn’t complain either.”

There’s a long pause and then Robin murmurs “Oh…”.

“What?” Regina asks

“Just looking at this picture of the mayor of Storybrooke in bikini. Scandalous.”

“Oh god,” Regina laughs, puts Robin on speaker and frantically scrolls through her instagram on her phone. “Those _really_ shouldn’t be up. That was so long ago, and — my god what were you looking that far down my feed?”

She’s in a panic checking how many pictures she has to delete, barely listening to Robin’s defense.

“I was curious!” Robin exclaims. “And I wanted to see pictures of Henry and… you’re really beautiful so I couldn’t stop looking.”

She nearly drops the phone when she hears his words.

“Robin…” she starts.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Her mind is full of poison and fear, years living with her mother taught her never to trust a good thing. There was only so much Daniel could do to reverse that before he died and the world yet again proved that good things are not for her.

So there are doubts in her head, telling her not to trust him, that he was looking at those photos to tease her, to use against her, that he’s flirting with her to con her out of more time with Henry….

She doesn’t really believe any of the whispers in her mind. The sincerity in his voice and actions these past few weeks are far too overpowering.

Still, she teases back, “You are just saying that so I don’t call you out for stalking my account, aren’t you?”

“No,” Robin chuckles into the phone, “I’m being honest because I am fairly certain you can tell if I lie, and I very much don’t want to be on your bad side.”

She’s not sure how to respond so she doesn’t at all, deafening silence grows between them until Robin speaks, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I… shouldn’t have mentioned that. But it’s probably best to get out there if you didn’t already know it. Especially if we will be spending more time with one another.”

“What is?” she asks, her brow furrowing.

“That I find you attractive,” Robin chuckles. “I figured you’d have known that, I mean you’ve seen yourself in the mirror and you know I like women and you know I’m breathing, but—“

“Stop being overly complimentary,” she cuts him off severely, unable to hear anymore. She’s pretty, yes, she knows that, but nothing like he’s describing, and she doesn’t need a pep talk about her looks.

“I wasn’t being overly complimentary,” Robin insists. “Let’s be real for a moment. I just confessed to perving on your pictures. I’m hardly being a gentleman here.”

Regina snort laughs, her eyes shutting as she agrees that yes, he just did that.

“You know you look so carefree in some of these pictures,” Robin murmurs.

She feels a little jolt of excitement over the fact he’s _still_ looking at them, though she isn’t sure why she’s so excited.

“Oh, if you go back far enough you can find the time when had a new beautiful baby and I wasn’t yet running for mayor,” Regina smirks, thinking of the memory. “I had a momentary blip of pure happiness following a year of grief. Nothing could touch me back then.”

“Politics must be hard,” Robin murmurs.

“It makes you examine every damn thing you say,” she admits. It’s freeing to admit it. It’s not as if he’s in her town or knows anyone there, so why not get a little real? “You get consultants who do these god awful focus groups and find out how every detail of your looks, your past, your family, all of it is all just a little bit wrong.”

“And according to these god awful focus groups, what things were wrong with you?” Robin asks tentatively

“Everything. I was too emotional. Not emotional enough. I wore too much makeup when I wore the same amount I always had, but when I wore less, I was criticized for looking tired. I was too obsessed with my looks, I was narcissistic, I was ugly, I was too skinny, I was fat, I hated men, I was too flirtatious, I was aggressive, angry, a bad mother, not a real mother at all, I was too fake, I was weak…” She trails off. “After awhile, there’s so much contradicting criticism you stop listening. I knew I was the best for the job and never truly doubted my abilities. But it did harden me a bit. Made me even less trustful of people and their motives and true thoughts.”

“That makes sense. I’d be cynical, too.”

“I already was a natural pessimist. I guess this just made it worse. So…” she takes a deep breath and ignores her pounding heart telling her not to share too much, not to be too trusting or honest. Logically, he’s earned the right for some, “I am quite used to keeping people at a distance. I'm sure you can tell.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Robin tells her immediately. “I understand. I’m counting on winning you over in time.”

“I’m not easy,” Regina counters, and why is her voice all sultry and suggestive?

“I am not afraid of a bit of a challenge,” her tells her.

They talk longer than they should that night, and a few nights after she finds excuses to call him related to her son or their next meeting, but she can admit to herself, it’s really just that she finds herself wanting to hear the sound of his voice one more time.

.::.

“But how can I have a brother if his momma isn’t _my_ momma?” Roland asks, his brow all furrowed and confused.

Robin takes a deep breath and looks at Marian.

She’s allowing this meeting with Henry, which is great, but she also insisted they explain to him the concept of half-siblings first, and Roland being barely five, it’s a bit sophisticated.

“Some brothers only have the same momma or the same dad,” Robin explains. So Henry and you are both my sons. That’s how you are brothers.”

“If Momma and Alan have babies will they be my brothers?” Roland asks.

Fuck.

Marian laughs nervously and Robin tries to be a good sport and laugh along. Truthfully, he doesn’t want to think about that quite yet.

“They’d be your brother or sister just like this Henry,” Marian confirms.

“Cool!” Roland exclaims. And then he’s chatting about wanting to get a gift for his new brother and wondering out loud what video games his brother likes, what sports he plays, what his favorite candy is.

He’s a handful.

Robin shares a look with Marian, one of those amused, “can-you-believe-our-son” looks that she returns.

They are lucky. Children Roland's age don’t need many questions answered, they just accept things so naturally.

He had a much harder time with Marian, whose first question about Henry was his age. Robin tried not to take that as an accusation or inquiry on his faithfulness. When she asked about Regina, he’s fairly certain she picked up on something when he assures her that Henry has the best mother.

“Don’t date her unless you know she would still let the kids see one another even if there is a breakup,” she had warned.

Robin rolled his eyes and told her this wasn’t about Regina in the slightest and he wasn’t interested in that way, anyway.

Marian has not bought it.

The truth is he is _very_ interested but also well aware of the problems pursuing Regina entails. He’s not going to risk losing time with Henry (though he thinks at this point she wouldn’t deny Henry time with Robin even if she stopped liking him personally).

So it’s definitely best if he just ignores his feelings and focuses on his sons and his relationship with him and their relationship with one another.

Rationally, he knows this.

But he is doing a shit job at not imagining or hoping for more.


	7. Chapter 7

The doorbell rings and Regina takes a deep breath.

The house homey and rustic, the faint scent of a warm beef stew overpowered by the scent of freshly baked cookies and apple turnovers. Hot chocolate and s’mores ingredients are out and ready to be made upon request, every detail is perfect.

She’s nervous as hell opening that door.

Robin is on the other side of it, his face flushed from the cold, with a similarly red-nosed, excited child next to him.

Oh, Roland is more adorable in person. His little brown coat all zipped uptight, his green knitted cap fitted loose on his head, his curls poking out under it.

Bright red lips, red cheeks and the brightest brown eyes she has ever seen look back at her.

Oh, he makes cute babies, Robin does.

“Hi!” Roland exclaims, “Are you Miss Regina?”

This kid is fearless, it appears. Fearless and excited for the new adventure of a new sibling.

“You can call me Regina. And yes, that’s me,” she answers. Roland is holding a present, which is fabulous because although she and Robin didn’t discuss it, she and Henry bought presents, too.

They can be rather in sync when it comes to these things.

“We brought you presents!” Roland exclaims. “You and my new brother!”

And sure enough, Robin is holding a gift as well.

Regina takes his and Roland's gift from them and directs them to the coat rack, where Robin helps Roland unbundle.

Robin looks better than he should be allowed to for a casual dinner, his salt-and-pepper hair perfectly styled to look as if it hasn’t been styled at all, his shirt just fitted enough to remind her he’s fit and built. How obnoxious.

“Shoes and boots off, too,” she instructs. Its snowed recently and the pavement and sidewalks are still full of dirty slushy remnants of it and she would like to keep all that outside, thank you very much.

“Henry is just in his room finishing up homework,” Regina tells him. “These few weekends before Christmas we tend to be quite festive. My living room television is loaded with Christmas movies ready to be watched, and there is a stew, and plenty of desserts after you’ve had dinner, and—“

“That all sounds amazing.” Robin is smiling at her, shooting her a knowing look, as if he can tell how nervous she is. Roland is still focusing on taking off his boots, so it’s not awkward when Robin leans in and whispers, “it’s going to be okay, darling.”

He’s taken to calling her sweet little nicknames like that. It’s clear he’s comfortable using them and doesn’t mean much to him, but _she_ is not used to being called those names, so her heart still picks up a bit upon hearing them — half in fear of what these intimate words might mean, half in excitement over the same thing.

It’s quite pathetic.

“I know, I just really want them to get along,” she admits.

She’s not sure why. She should hope Henry never wants to see Roland or Robin again and Roland will feel the same. Then they could return to their lives as normal, right?

She doesn’t want that, she finds.

“Mom? Was that the doorbell?”

Henry calls from upstairs. She turns to look up at the upstairs balcony to find him walking towards it.

“They are here, Henry,” she calls back.

His eyes widen and he scurries down the stairs.

“Hi, Robin!” Henry calls.

“Hi, Henry! I’m with someone who is very interested in meeting you.”

Regina watches as Roland shrinks behind his dad a little, as if he’s finally sensed the weight and importance of this moment.

Henry bounds down the rest of the stairs and waves at Roland. “Hey! You’re my brother.”

Roland nods but does not speak.

“Roland, this is Henry,” Robin’s voice is soothing and gentle.

“Hi,” Roland says, waving back.

“He was so excited all day,” Robin frowns and bends over to look Roland in the eyes, “Are you okay, kiddo?”

“Yes,” Roland nods. He then whispers something in Robin’s ear that makes Robin smile.

“He says—"

“Nooo!” Roland scolds. “Don’t tell!”

“Okay, okay, my boy. Regina says she has stew for us to eat, doesn’t that sound nice?”

Regina realizes stew is not exactly kid-friendly, but Robin has mentioned Roland is an adventurous eater, so she’s not surprised when he nods vigorously.

“Do you want sparkling cider?” Henry asks Roland. “Mom bought us some, it’s really good!”

Roland’s eyes light up and Robin laughs. He mouths out _thank you_ to Regina. He had mentioned that one of his son’s favorite treats were sparkling juices, which his mother allows though soda of any sort is very much off the table.

“I’ll pour you a glass, come on!” Henry motions toward the kitchen and holds out his hand. Roland is still a bit timid, but the mention of sparkling cider apparently filled him with courage. He takes Henry’s hand and lets him lead him into the kitchen. She can sense Robin wants to follow Roland, but he stops himself, letting the boys have a bit of time alone.

“He said Henry was way taller than he expected,” Robin chuckles. “I can relate to that. He’s so grown up, your boy. He’s nine but sometimes he feels fifteen.”

Regina feels pride blooming in her chest and nods. “Henry has that way of commanding a room without ever really trying. But he’s a very down to earth little boy and so good with the little ones. I just hope Roland likes him.”

Robin smiles and shrugs. “Trust me. He already does.”

.::.

It’s amazing, watching them together.

Dinner goes smoothly and Henry easily draws Roland out of his shell so easily Robin almost couldn’t believe it. Roland was answering questions quietly at first, but by the end of dinner, he was asking his own to Henry. The boys bonded over their hatred of green beans and their love of mashed potatoes, over their favorite video games and movies (Henry clearly ages his tastes down in the video game department, citing Super Mario Bros 3D World as his favorite, but they share a love of the Indiana Jones movies, Roland clearly proud when Henry is impressed he even remembers some of the lines from The Lost Ark).

“They are both so adventurous,” Robin says with a wink and a proud smile.

She’s all dressed up tonight to a level that is distracting, which is odd since she told him the evening should be casual. What she is wearing is anything but casual, a tight, gorgeous blue dress that has a slit down the neckline revealing much more cleavage than Robin thought were possible for her (he shouldn’t be looking at her so much). The dress has short sleeves with some sort of cutouts around the shoulders and he’s not sure why that is so sexy but it is. It’s a Saturday night and it’s possible she could have just come from an event earlier today.

Or she could have dressed up for him.

And if she dressed up for him in _that_ dress, well, then he’d just about die.

He’s glad he decided to dress up a bit from his usual, at least not his normal weekend wear of a tee shirt and jeans. The idea of dinner at the mayor’s house had an air of elegance around it, and truly the venue is quite formal. There is traditional, ornate furniture alongside impeccable tasteful Christmas decorations. The place is fit for a catalog, elegant in an understated but undoubtedly grandeur way.

Though everything feels homey and surprisingly mellow. You wouldn’t know that Roland and Henry just met, you wouldn’t guess that he and Regina were near-strangers, not from observing this dinner.

He’s taken to teasing Regina at every opportunity he can. She takes herself far too seriously, and he suspects she’s surrounded herself with very serious people.

So he can crack a pun here and there, he can jump into Henry and Roland’s conversation with some excited and childish exclamation, he would do anything to make her life a little less somber feeling.

He absolutely loves her laugh and loves even more how much he’s gotten a genuine laugh out of her.

It’s just them, no one around, and he’s realized she’s better when not in the public eye. More sincere, happier.

“Do you boys want dessert now?” Regina asks.

“Yes!” Roland nearly jumps out of his chair. “What do we have?”

“What _don’t_ we have?” Henry asks. Cookies, apple turnovers, s’ mores, hot chocolate—“

“What are apple turnovers?” Roland asks.

Henry’s jaw drops. “You’ve never had an apple turnover? You should try it! I made them with Mom today!”

“I can make a fire and we can pick a Christmas movie and eat dessert out there,” Regina suggests.

“Yeah!” Henry cries, “Roland you can pick whatever movie you want, I’ll show you them!”

They scurry off into the living room as Robin tries to clear the table, but Regina grabs his hand to stop him from grabbing her plate. “Appreciate that, but I’ll get it later. Henry was five once. I know we don’t have much time before he gets sleepy. I don’t want to waste any of it doing dishes.”

“Someone is a softie,” he winks. “It’s fine, you can spend time with my son out there. You cooked, let me clean.”

“No. You don’t know my kitchen or my system. Let me handle it.”

“Are you trying to micromanage _cleaning dishes?”_ Robin asks in mock horror. “My dear Regina Mills, I promise I can handle this trying endeavor on my own. I have a bit of experience with this particular task. I’ve been doing it since I was a child.”

She is amused by him, he can tell the way that small smile cracks over her face and spreads wide.

“I like things done my way,” she says with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, I’ve noticed that,” Robin teases back. “But you don’t always have to be in control. You can let others handle the smallest of tasks sometimes. What do you think will happen? I’ll end up playing frisbee with your china instead of cleaning them?”

“You could clean them _badly,”_ she answers. “You could load them into the dishwasher improperly. You could put things that should be hand washed in there. You could forget to soak things that need to be presoaked. It could be a disaster.”

“It sounds like it,” Robin agrees. “Thank god you had the good sense to stop it before the worst happened.”

Regina just rolls her eyes and tries to bite back a smile as she stands up from her seat. “Come on, let’s fix a plate of desserts and some hot chocolate for the kids and go watch a Christmas movie.”

And that sounds wonderful to Robin.

Henry and Roland are plopped on the floor in front of the tv leaving the couch to the adults.

Robin leaves a reasonable (or perhaps unreasonable) space between him and Regina and places a bit of a dessert sampler tray on the coffee table.

“Do you mind him having all this sugar?” she asks, wincing. “Sorry, I like to bake…. and I may overuse sweet things to get on children’s good side.”

She’s so sweet it almost kills him. She winces as she realizes, “I sound a little bit like the witch in Hansel and Gretal, don’t I?”

“Don’t worry,” Robin assures, “I’ve always rooted for the villains, myself. This is _quite_ delicious child-bait, I must admit.”

She smirks and rolls her eyes at him in that playful way that makes him die a bit inside.

They watch the Grinch That Stole Christmas first, which both Henry and Roland appear to have memorized. They say some lines together and giggle.

Roland declares apple turnovers are his _favorite,_ as is the hot chocolate with way too many marshmallows.

He watches Henry and Roland together more than he watches the movie. He picks out similar mannerisms, watches the way Roland whispers secrets in his brother’s ear, things that make Henry whisper back.

There’s no discussion about how they share DNA, about how they are brothers, even.

They are young enough to just accept that without question.

“Can we watch another movie, mom?” Henry asks.

Regina is now in bare feet and covered in a blanket (blocking his view of the dress, god damn it). They’ve somehow gotten a bit closer over the course of the movie, just in the process of leaning back and forth to the coffee table to grab a sweet or put down their drinks.

Regina is almost touching him, but not quite.

It’s actually taking a lot of restraint not to wrap an arm around her, especially when she showed signs of being cold.

Now she looks at him with a raised eyebrow and says, “Another movie? I’m not sure. It depends on our guests.”

“I think we could do one more,” Robin muses. It’s 7:30, and almost certainly time for Roland to go to bed, but he leans in and explains to Regina, “He’s going to fall asleep after a few minutes in, that’s just fine, he sleeps like the dead. I’ll carry him out when it happens.”

Regina frowns and then reminds him of what an absolute idiot he is. “Would you boys like to open your presents first?”

Right. Robin has forgotten about those.

“Yeah!” Henry giggles, “Let’s open them!”

Roland tears through his wrapping paper and nearly jumps when he finds a few action figures wrapped nicely in a shoebox.

“They were my toys. I wanted you to have them,” Henry explains.

That makes the toys even better, and Roland seems to appreciate that. He _ahhs_ over each comic book figure in doll form, watches as Henry explains what makes each special.

“And then we got you something else,” Henry tells him, pointing to a second small package.

Roland opens them up to find some sort of clothes. Not his favorite.

“I have matching ones!” Henry explains, “Every year for Christmas Eve I wear pajamas to dinner. I always wear a different pair of pajamas. See my dad—“

He cringes and looks at Regina for a way to explain this.

“Henry’s other dad, Daniel, he and his brother used to wear matching pajamas every Christmas Eve. Henry wanted to pass on the tradition.”

“Cool!” Roland says, “I am going to have two dads too, you know!” he tells Henry.

Well, no he fucking won’t. Alan can be his uncle, his friend, he can be the person currently married to his mom, but Alan does _not_ get to be dad.

That is Robin’s first, immediate angry reaction. And it must show because Regina squeezes his hand. “Stepparents are confusing to explain,” she whispers to him. “I’m sure that was hard to hear.”

“No, it’s fine,” Robin sighs, careful not to draw Roland’s attention. “I should be happy my son gets along so well with him, I should want him to have more family instead of less. But… I’m his father.”

She smirks, then pats his thigh in a way that has him forgetting all about Alan and his place in Roland’s life.

“Look, Henry is opening your gift.”

Robin’s heart leaps into his lungs. Henry’s approval still means a lot.

“I heard you needed a baseball glove,” Robin smiles, holding out his left hand. “Figured I could buy you one from one leftie to another.”

“I’m left-handed, too!” Roland exclaims (for not the first time this evening, mind you).

“So is Mom!” Henry notes. “We’re a left-handed family!”

Robin worries about the use of the word _family_ to describe them and shoots a sheepish look to Regina, who only looks slightly uncomfortable. Robin supposes they are a family of sorts, maybe not husband, wife, and kids, but birth father, adopted mother, son and half-brother… that’s something, anyway.

“It’s very rare for there to be so many lefties,” Regina notes. “That’s special.”

“I love it, thanks, Robin!” Henry calls out as he tries the glove on for size.

“Maybe you two should put on your pajamas now,” Regina directs. “Since you won’t get to wear them together on Christmas Eve.”

“We won’t?” Henry asks. “Roland and Robin aren’t coming for Christmas Eve?”

He looks downright rejected, and Robin thinks in this instant there’s nothing, not even Christmas Eve, that he would deny this son of his.

“I’m sure Robin and Roland have plans of their own,” Regina warns. “We can see them some other time.”

“But Santa can come for Roland, and he can see the Christmas trains running at the mall, and—“

“I want to see the trains!” Roland looks at Robin.

He sighs. “Let’s talk about that later, bud. Go get changed into pajamas and we will pick out just _one_ more movie, okay?”

The boys run upstairs to change, and Regina cringes and smiles. “He’ll forget about Christmas Eve tomorrow, I bet. Sorry about that.”

“He won’t forget, not when Henry dropped that trains were involved. But I don’t mind. He has to learn he can’t just invite himself—“

“Oh no, Henry invited him.”

“He can’t just… let a child invite him—“

He stops when Regina chuckles. “Do you have a plan for Christmas Eve yet?”

“No. I’m spending Christmas day with my parents. Marian is to stop by. Christmas Eve, we will probably go to bed early and wait for Santa.”

She bites her lip and sighs. “I mean, maybe…” she sighs, wrinkling her nose. “It’s probably too soon to plan a joint Christmas celebration, isn’t it?”

“Not Christmas, Christmas Eve,” Robin points out.

“Oh, well in that case, no big deal,” Regina says sarcastically.

Robin laughs and leans toward her to murmur lowly,. “I think us spending Christmas Eve together would be great. But only if _you_ want to do it.”

Regina shrugs. “I think I do want that, actually.”

That little confession has him happier than he should admit.

“Then I think we have plans for Christmas Eve, after all.”

.::.

Henry and Roland picked “Elf” to watch next. Roland didn’t make it very far before passing out. Robin carries his sleep weighted body to the loveseat and Regina throws a blanket over him. Henry is exhausted as well, yawning every few minutes as he lies stretched across the floor.

“Honey,” Regina finally says, “I think it might be bedtime.”

“Mo—oom!” Henry whines, “I’m not a baby.”

“Well, that means you can stay up to help with the dishes, right?”

Henry heads up to he’s without much argument after that. Regina excuses herself just to tuck him in.

When she comes downstairs she makes a beeline for her liquor cabinet.

“Would you like some apple brandy? Storybrooke’s finest.”

“That sounds great,” Robin smiles, settling on the couch.

She hands him a glass of brandy on the rocks and sits down with him, this time right next to him.

“This was a good night,” she muses.

“It was,” Robin agrees, looking over to his sleeping child. “They get along. We should try to see them regularly.”

She’s made him a promise to not break his son’s heart, and he knows she will keep it.

“So I was thinking…” she curled up, her bare feet on the couch as she faces him and holds her brandy, “we try to set up a monthly date if we can. Of course, we already have that scavenger hunt in December, and maybe Christmas Eve, so maybe we don’t need to do January, but moving forward—“

“We could do January, too,” Robin tells her. “I’d love as much time as you’d be willing to share with me, actually. So if our schedules allow…”

She brightens. “That would be great. My schedule is a bit complicated, though. I have so many events, though less now that I'm in my second term and it’s not an election year. But there still are quite a bit of charity runs, soup kitchen mornings, charity and society luncheons, baseball games, bingo, and then there are even the cocktail parties and black tie events I’m expected to attend.”

“Well I can always tag along, if you would want me around for that,” Robin offers. He feels his cheeks heat realizing tagging along to black-tie events sounds an awful lot like trying to be her date. “The soup kitchen and charity events, anything sports related, any place Henry is welcome. I mean, if you want.”

She nods. “Some of the events are family-friendly. But I don’t know. People may have questions for you.”

“Are you planning on running again once this term is up?” Robin asks.

“Storybrooke is odd. Mayor doesn’t have term limits, exactly, but you can only serve two consecutive terms. So if I wanted to be mayor again, I’d have to sit the next term out. Almost everyone leaves office permanently after two terms, though.”

“Running for a different office after that?” he asks.

She shrugs. “They want me to run for US Congress. Or state legislature. I don’t know. I prefer something in the executive branch, but I don’t have statewide name recognition and so the governorship is out of the question. And I don’t know if I want the spotlight and the loss of privacy that comes with running for an office like that. In any case, I’m a candidate, and I’m always going to have to consider how things look in public. The good news is the town and the local press are very respectful of Henry and his private life. But I am free to all the criticism. Letting my son pal around with his birth father would, I think, spark some interesting articles and gossip about both of us. And I’m not sure you or I are ready for that.”

Robin shrugs. “I’ll be quite fine with whatever you decide, but for what it’s worth I don’t mind that. I have never been one to care what people are saying or thinking about me.”

“Okay,” Regina smiles. “I’ll consider it. Either way, I’ll try to make sure you and Henry have your time.” Regina combs her hands through her hair and Robin takes the opportunity to admire how she looks yet again.

“So how did you like meeting Roland?” Robin asks cheerfully.

“Oh,” closes her eyes and shakes her head, “that boy is…. god, he’s cute. Those curls, those dimples… his laugh… ugh, makes my ovaries ache.”

Robin smirks. “He lucked out with his mother’s looks, as you can tell.”

“His mother is gorgeous,” Regina murmurs. “But he couldn’t really go wrong. Both his parents are very good looking.”

She’s frustrating. He can’t tell — even now — whether she’s just being politely complimentary or whether she really likes him.

Not that it matters. He can’t be with her in that way.

But tonight has made one thing certain — he really, really wants to be with her that way.

Robin gives himself a moment, only one, to think of what he’d like to say and what he might do with her if only they met under different circumstances, if only Henry’s adopted mother were some wonderful if not homely stranger and he had met Regina in entirely different circumstances…

Then he returns to reality and does as he has for so many years. He plays with the cards he’s been dealt, not the cards he wants, and keeps the conversation focused on their sons.

“Roland looks so much like Marian in every way. That is why the left-handed thing made me so happy. It’s a bit of me in there.”

“There’s more,” Regina tilts her head and looks at him, really looks at him, as if she’s searching for something hidden on his body. “I can tell he’s your son. The dimples are there, he got that from you. And then there is something in the eyes. Even if they are different colors, they share quality. Like they have the same vibrance, maybe. And the way he laughs…”

“I can tell Henry is yours, too,” Robin answers.

Her eyes narrow and she rolls her eyes at him. “Come on,” she groans.

“I can. When I tell a corny joke, you two have the same reaction. Your eyes roll to the back of the head while you give this half-smile. It’s uncanny. And then the way you laugh is similar. When he’s unsure of how to reply, he chews his bottom lip, just like you. It’s endearing. And lovely, really. He’s taken after parts of you.”

The smile she gives him is faint but sincere, her face looks more embarrassed and proud than annoyed, and Robin takes that as a win.

“Thank you,” she finally says. “It’s hard for me… hard for me to believe people when they tell me things like that. I’m so used to everyone being caustic and self-serving. But… it’s hard to believe you are genuinely this sweet and caring. And that you see me as a good person. It’s not what I’m used to hearing.”

“Maybe you have a hard shell and very few people look to what’s underneath. And even less try to understand why you’d need to protect yourself in the first place.”

“And why do I need to protect myself?”

“I don’t pretend to know exceedingly much about American politics, but I’ve gathered being a young, beautiful, brilliant woman threatens some people. And it’s rare for single women to be in politics, and I assume unmarried women are subject to wild speculation and rumors. How’d I do?”

“Very well,” Regina nods, “But my issues with trusting others came before politics. I’ve always been like this.”

If she thinks she’s going to scare him off she is sadly mistaken.

Robin shrugs. “Either way, you’re more interesting than most women. You’re not just one note. Maybe that makes people uncomfortable. It only makes me more intrigued. Even without being Henry’s mother, I would feel this way about you.”

“I think if you weren’t Henry’s biological father, I’d feel a bit differently about you,” she says, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

Robin holds his breath and second-guesses the words that are on his lips, more flirtatious words centered around getting a date with her. He can’t do that. They really should keep their distance from one another romantically. That is what is best for Roland.

He can’t think of what to say admits all these feelings he’s not supposed to have for her, so he ends up staring into her eyes instead.

They are so expressive, big and rich, the color of espresso, which might sound like a common color yet no one’s eyes have this deep, warm, golden quality.

He knows she’s looking back at him, watches those eyes of her wander, he swears she looks at his lips for a second, and that’s when he almost loses his resolve.

All he can think about is pulling her close and kissing her, and she looks so willing in this moment, she’s so close…

Regina must sense his thoughts because she pops the little moment they are having with a nervous question.

“Do you still want to help me with the dishes?”

Robin clears his throat and tries to swallow down desire and inappropriate thoughts.

He nods. “Very much, I do.”

She leads him into the kitchen and they clear the table together.

Robin quickly learns that Regina wasn’t joking when she said she had a system for cleaning dishes. It’s elaborate and meticulous, and he can’t help but poke fun of it.

“If this whole mayor thing doesn’t work out, I think you have a career as a reality show chef,” he teases, “your OCD and need for order would make great tv.”

“Very funny,” she groans. “Now, let me show you how I treat the utensils before they go in the dishwasher.

Robin groans.

Putting away dishes is a meticulous, boring task yet somehow with her it is exciting and dynamic.

They chat the whole time, Regina teases him for not knowing how to properly load a dishwasher, he calls her a dish nazi, which is something he would never have thought to come out of his mouth before tonight.

He’s soaking a pot in soapy water when she comes up behind him and takes some of the suds and puts it on his nose. “What is all this, a bubble bath?” she asks. “You don’t need that much soap.”

“I’m just trying to be thorough!” he argues, “And I like a little extra soap. Bubble baths are very underrated.”

You take bubble baths?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

Robin shrugs. “Women don’t have the market cornered on baths. Baths are soothing for aching muscles and so relaxing. We underestimate how wonderful a bit of hot water and soap can be.”

Regina nods from her section of the sink. And without warning, she takes the sprayer and shoots him with it, warm water hitting his chest and arm in a steady stream.

He’s so surprised that Regina, so prim and proper, has just started a water fight.

“Are you feeling more relaxed?” She asks.

Robin laughs. “ You’re dead,” he warns, reaching to grab the sprayer out of her hand.

There’s a bit of a struggle, with her giggling and keeping the device away from him. But it’s not too hard to wrench it out of her arms, though he finds himself in no hurry to make this end, her shiefs of laughter and attempts to bargain out of her punishment.

When it looks like he will finally get the faucet out of her hand, she cries, “you can’t, not while i”m wearing this dress and it’s dryclean only!”

“What will warm water do, shink it?” he asks, pointing the spray at her. “Because that, I’m willing to risk.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “It could ruin it,” she admits, and he almost thinks she’s a bit sad she’s still wearing something so formal. Maybe she’d like to play a little more, but that serious wardrobe is holding her back. Robin surrenders the spray, putting his hands in the air. “Fine, fine. You win by default. But only because it’s a very nice dress and I’m going to be hoping to see you in it again one day.”

She lets out a loud burst of laughter, a shocked “ Hah!” before asking “You like the dress?”

Robin fights the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, he likes the dress, or rather, he likes the dress on her. It’s gorgeous, she has to know that. “You look amazing in it. Which reminds me, do you always dress this way for dinner at home? “

Regina laughs, her cheeks streaking red as she flatten out a wrinkle on the skirt of her dress, then works on scrubbing the inside of a mug of hot chocolate.. “What? This dress? I was supposed to wear it to a function at the hospital, but someone on my team decided it was a bit too showy.”

“Oh?” Robin’s throat goes a bit too dry. Too showy for work, but apparently appropriate to wear to tease and tempt him. “I don’t think it’s too showy at all. But I wouldn’t trust my opinion. I don’t think there’s anything you could possibly wear I’d think was too showy.”

She smirks and shakes her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you are gorgeous,” he tells her.

She looks so completely touched, and — holy fuck — her hand is on his chest, and she’s so close….

“Stop teasing,” she says in a sultry voice, shoving him back a bit.

He bites his lip and shakes his head. “Not teasing.”

I know,” she sighs, “but we probably shouldn’t be doing this. You’re here for Henry. Not for me.”

“I know,” Robin sighs, scratching his head. “But I…. I think about you more than you know. And not just as Henry’s mother. And I’m so sorry about that, I don’t want to feel this way, not if it makes you uncomfortable. But I like you for so many more reasons besides being an amazing mother to Henry.”

“We shouldn’t,” Regina says again, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let it get this far.”

She’s taken a step back, is now gathering the last of the dishes from the kitchen.

“I like you, too. And it’s been a while, I’ll admit, a long while, since I felt like this, since I’ve had someone who isn’t my sister or friend to hug, or just sit next to and be close to…. I missed that. I like it with you.”

“I like it with you, too,” Robin pauses to smile, waiting until she looks him in the eyes to continue, “Hey, it’s been a while for me, too.”

She shakes her head. “I doubt it’s been that long. You’re too good looking to have much of a dry spell.”

It’s Robin’s turn to laugh. “No, Regina, I’m a single dad who had his heart broken a bit. I am not really killing it in the dating scene. But even though it’s been a while, I’m not interested in you because I’m desperate for affection. It’s because it’s you. Of that, I’m quite certain. I’ve not been interested in anyone in some time.”

“I know...” Regina sighs, “But maybe… the circumstances of how we met are making us think we feel things that aren’t there. You being a father of sorts to Henry, me being his mom, you know?”

“It might be that for you. It’s not for me. I’m sure of it,” Robin tells her confidently.

“It’s not that, really.” Robin watches as Regina squirms, her body posture shifting to convey the awkwardness she must eel. “I just don’t want us to indulge in this, and then when it fizzles, we don’t want to do these visits anymore. And then Henry and Roland suffer.”

“I don’t want that either,” Robin assures. “You're right, it’s best we don’t cross that line. At least we’re honest, and our feelings are out there. Easy to actively avoid that way.”

“Right,” Regina says, nodding with that fake smile plastered on her face. She walks away from the sink and walks towards Robin, who has been leaning against the door frame. God, this is a mess, he’s still looking at her cleavage every chance he gets. “Just friends?”

Regina holds out her hand for him to shake it.

He looks up at the ceiling to ask whatever force of nature is kind to him and lets him stick to this plan, but then he sees something else entirely.

He points to the red and green foilage stuck above him. Fucking mistletoe.

Regina laughs nervously.

He raises an eyebrow.

“We shouldn’t,” she tells him.

“I know,” Robin agrees. “Definitely not.”

He takes her hand gently instead and holds it.

“Friendship,” he agrees, holding that warm, small hand in his.

Friends. Just friends. That’s all they will ever be, so stop looking at her this way.

That is what he tells himself.

And just when he thinks he is going to be able to tear himself away, Regina surprises him.

“Fuck it,” she groans, and then her hand isn’t in his anymore, it’s on the collar of his shirt.

She pulls him toward her so fast he doesn’t know how to react.

They kiss. Once, twice, three times. Too many to count.

The kiss is absolutely electric, her lips are soft and full, her body just fits against him in this satisfying way. He loses his mind and lets his hand wander down that beautiful dress of hers until he’s squeezing her ass without thinking of consequences.

Regina doesn’t seem upset in the slightest if her encouraging moan is any indication.

They kiss until they are both panting and breathless, and now that he’s had a taste of her he is really lost because there’s no way he’s giving up on kissing Regina Mills again. Not any time soon, anyway.

“Shit,” Regina laughs, shaking her head. “You’re a good kisser.”

“You too,” he rasps.

She bites her lip and shakes her head. “God, I fucked this up, didn’t I? What are we going to do now? How is this all going to work?”

“It will work,” Robin tells her, feeling confident it will. “We’re going to do exactly what we planned for the holidays, were going to trust each other and make sure our sons always come first. And we won’t let what’s between us scare us away from each other, because fuck, Regina, kissing you feels right, but being in your life, being in Henry’s life, I’d do anything to keep that.”

“Okay,” Regina smiles. “Okay.”

Robin truly isn’t sure what the future holds for them, but he knows since Henry and Regina came into his life he’d rather drag himself through hell than be without either of them.

There’s obstacles that will come. This will be challenging and maybe sometimes painful.

Maybe he has to put all these feelings for her on hold indefinitely. He doesn’t even mine, he will quietly pine for her for years if she lets him.

All he knows is that despite the pain of finding out he lost nine years of his life, finding out about Henry and getting to meet him is already the best Christmas present Robin could ask for.


	8. Chapter 8

“You _kissed_ him?”

Mal sounds as incredulous as Regina feels, frankly, and she doesn’t blame her. Since when does Regina behave this way?

Regina groans and collapses into herself, her forehead hitting the solid wood of her desk.

“It was just a meaningless mistletoe kiss, I thought. At first anyway.”

“Mistletoe is the most beautiful, herbal excuse I’ve ever known,” Mal smirks. “I wonder how many pregnancies are blamed on that blasted weed.”

“Ok, I know, it was looking for an excuse. And then it just got away from me,” she admits. “I think, subconsciously, the fact that he’s Henry’s father is clouding my judgment. Like some deep part of my brain is stuck in the 1960s and feels I ought to marry my son’s father. Probably something I got from my mother.”

“Is that all it is?” Mal asks. “Really?”

Regina shrugs. “What else could it be? I don’t know him well enough to be feeling this way. I’m not a teenager.”

“Well if that’s all it is, channel your no-nonsense adult voice and just drum it into your head that he’s _not_ Henry’s father, the time where he could have been Henry's father has come and gone. He has his own child, one he raised from birth, and it is _not_ Henry. Okay?”

Regina nods and hides from Mal’s eyes, taking a moment to stare out the window. She doesn’t want to see the disappointment - or worse, the pity.

“It’s not just that he’s got a connection to Henry, is it?” Mal asks, a bit softer, a bit now concerned.

“No,” Regina groans, hitting her head on the table again.

She looks up at Mal and crumbles.

“Ugh,” she says, nausea inching up in her gut, “I like him so much. So, so much.”

The confession brings heat to her cheeks and clouds her mind with embarrassment. She isn’t a high school girl. And yet she whines, “Whyyy is this happening?”

She is still face planted on the desk as Mal laughs at her pain (she’d expect nothing less).

“Well, he seems like a good guy on paper. And he’s decent looking. So maybe you’re a bit hard up and maybe he came in during a time when your libido was flaring,” Mal says, her clinical analysis somehow making this all the more humiliating.

Regina lifts her head from the desk and straightens her hair, trying to preserve some dignity at the moment.

“Anyway,” Regina sighs, slumping in her chair, “it happened. And now I have feelings for him, and I really need to snap out of it because Henry can’t stop talking about him. He _loves_ him, I mean, not _loves_ loves, he likes him a _lot._ And… I was an idiot for ever arranging this meeting, wasn’t I?”

“No, you weren’t an idiot,” Mallory sighs. “You promises your son honesty and you gave it to him. If you told him and denied him a chance to meet Robin? That would make things worse, Regina. Henry would have resented you for it and romanticized what his birth parents were like. This was the right call. If it wasn’t I would have told you.”

Regina nods slightly. She wished that hearing she did the right thing helped her but really it does not at all.

“When are you meeting him next?” Mal asks.

“It was supposed to be the Father-son Christmas scavenger hunt,” Regina shakes her head. “now I am not sure what we will do. That… might be too public now.”

“That reminds me, What were you planning to tell people when a strange man shows up to play the role of Henry’s father in this event?” Mal asks.

Regina shrugged. “I figured if people inquired we’d just say he was a family friend, since that is close to the truth, he’s family of Henry’s, and a friend of mine. Just something wholesome, and—-“

“Nope, stay away from using the word family. You want to _sleep_ with him. Some people can pick up on these things and you most definitely don’t have the poker face you think you have. You say you’re like family and people start thinking of you as incestuous.”

“What do you suggest I tell them?” Regina asks, staring at Mal pointedly. “I could say he’s Henry’s birth father. Just be honest.”

“You’re still thinking of running for congress, right?” Mal frowns. “Ask Jefferson how that will play. Let him earn his keep as your campaign consultant. As hard as you worked for everyone to accept your adoption as a single mom, you want to reintroduce the birth father into this? They will have questions for Henry. There’s going to be at least one journalist who is less than polite and actually tries to _ask_ Henry about this which is exactly what you don’t want him to deal with.”

“Well then what?” Regina groans. “I’d rather step away from politics at all than deny Henry the chance to have a decently normal childhood and get to know his dad.”

“I think you should tell people that Robin is your boyfriend,” Mal deadpans.

Regina’s mouth drops open. “Mal—“

“You both went to college in New York City, right? So say something about that if asked so people think you let there and rekindled later. You hid it from the public until it was serious because you like your privacy.”

“Oh it’s serious now, is it?” Regina asks, resting her forehead in her hands.

“Of course it’s serious, Regina. Why else would you be letting him do the father-son scavenger hunt with Henry?”

“Shit,” Regina groans. Mal is right. It has to be a serious relationship they are faking. “How did I get myself into this?”

“It is quite a predicament. By the way, while you are fake dating, you should try some not-so-fake fucking,” Mal adds nonchalantly.

“Mallory!” Regina gasps.

“Just to seal the performance. And to clean out whatever cobwebs you have down there,” Mal motions towards Regina’s middle, and Regina has the distinct need to tell her there are no cobwebs as if that is a legitimate concern.

“This is idiotic,” Regina groans.

“It is, absolutely. You know what would be less idiotic?”

Regina glances up and Mal and shrugs.

“Just fucking dating the guy,” Mal smiles.

“He lives two hours away. He has a son. He can’t move, I can’t move. And if anything happens to our relationship, Henry will suffer. So no, dating the guy is not less idiotic.”

“I think you could work it out. You like one another, you’re realistic, you adore Henry and he cares about children. If it ended I’m sure you’d preserve that relationship with Henry and his kid,” Mal says earnestly. “But you never know until you try.”

“Sometimes you know,” Regina frowns. She does know how dating Robin will end up. Regina doesn’t do breakups well. She only half-dated Graham, and now she can’t be in the same room as him. Even when she’s not supposed to get attached, she gets attached.

“You don’t know shit,” Mal grumbles. “But you’re going to do what you want, so I won’t bother arguing. Deny yourself happiness again, don’t let me stand in your way.”

“I’m plenty happy already,” Regina grouses. “I have everything I need in Henry. And a job I love.”

Mal just sighs and rolls her eyes. “It’s okay to want more, Regina.”

And with that, her point is made and she must know it, because she changes the subject, leaving Regina to absorb the simple statement she only just realized she’s been fighting against for years.

.::.

Robin doesn’t want to answer the phone.

Doesn’t, but will, because curiosity will get to him and because he’s not sure what the woman on the other end will do if he ignores her.

“Carmella?” He asks curtly. “Listen, I really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be calling anymore.”

There’s silence on the other end, then a rather breathy, faint, “I am so sorry.”

He can hear the tears she choking back.

Robin groans. He loved this woman once, and in moments like these, he’s reminded of it. He hates her in so many ways but there’s this deep sympathy, this desire to save her from herself that he always held.

“I know you are, what’s done is done. I can’t carry a grudge against you forever. I’ll get over it. But you have to give me time.”

“It’s lived with this for so long,” she tells him, and this is so unfair, he doesn’t deserve this. why is she making _him_ feel bad? “You’re absolutely right, you had no choice and I can’t believe how much this had to have hurt. The only reason I still want Henry back is I hate having no idea how he is doing. I still worry about my son and wonder if I made the right choice or—“

She is sobbing now and Robin can’t help but comfort her.

“You made the right choice,” he assures. “I met him, Ella. Him and his mum. They are perfect for each other. He’s in very good hands. He’s healthy. He’s happy. You did well.”

He hears the sniffing and she asks, “You met him?”

“Yeah, just briefly,” he suddenly feels guilty for having time with his son when she never will. But she made that choice and he didn’t.

“I’m so glad,” Ella whispers. “I thought about what I took away from you a lot, trust me I didn’t take it lightly. I promise.”

“I know,” Robin breathes. “You don't have to worry about me, either. I may get to see him again, too. Regina is even talking about scheduling monthly meet-ups. I’m sorry you can’t have the same, but if you’re truly worried about your son please know that you don’t have to. And don't worry about me anymore. What you did to me was awful, but I’m going to be okay. Focus on yourself, okay?”

He hears her sniffle before she agrees. “I’m really sorry again, Robin. You swear he’s okay?”

“Yes,” Robin assures. “He’s wonderful, Ella. Rest assured knowing that you have nothing to apologize to Henry for, okay?”

She thanks him and hangs up. Hopefully with the closure she needs to stop calling.

it’s unfair, the emotional burden she put on him when he’s already in an awful headspace.

It’s enough, dealing with finding out about Henry but add on the fact that he’s a bit afraid of where things are leading with Regina and he’s battling a mountain of emotions.

Regina has already told him that their kiss was a mistake. She had texted him an apology— _an apology!_ before he got home that night. Apparently she very much “valued their relationship at its platonic level and would like to keep it as such”.

He has no idea why he finds it adorable when she speaks in that curt, detached political way. Perhaps it’s because he finds everything she does adorable these days.

In any case, he should find it annoying and infuriating that she’d be so cold after all they shared.

The last thing Robin wants to do is compromise his relationship with Henry, so whatever Regina wants is what he will do. Really, though, he is fairly certain he’d jump through a ring of fire for Regina Mills even if it weren’t for Henry. And that’s the problem.

There’s no need to rush into anything, though, and he has time to spend with her as a friend and as the mother of his son. He can be happy doing that for as long as she wants. Maybe she will change her mind on them or maybe he will gradually stop being so enamored….

The only thing he knows is he can play along without much pain, even with his strong feelings. As long as the possibility is out there.

So unless she finds someone else (god, it’s ridiculous but he doesn’t even want to _think_ about that) he can handle things quite well as friends. For now.

He’s fairly certain she wants more too, judging from the way she kissed him.

God, can she ever kiss.

He had been enamored before but after that, well, there’s no sense in pretending.

And she probably won’t ever know this, probably _shouldn’t,_ but it’s been over two years since Robin has as much as kissed another woman.

Being a single dad can be tough. He doesn’t have the time or energy to devote to dating and certainly doesn’t feel like spending countless bad dates until he can find one that doesn’t make him want to jump out of a window.

That makes his time with Regina even more special and even more worth fighting for.

Whenever he thinks about her this much, he seems to always hear from her. Like some weird sense of cosmic connection, some odd fate…

When his phone rings, he knows it’s her before he sees her beautiful face on the screen.

“Hey, Regina,” Robin answers. “We’re still on next week, right?”

There’s a pause on the other line and Robin waits patiently.

“Yeah… sorry, yes, sort of. It’s just—I just…. well...”

“Yes?” he asks. God, she’s nervous and she’s being damn adorable about it.

“Um, I talked to my friend about how to introduce you to people, I said the family friend thing? And well, she seems to think that might not be a good idea anymore after um, how things have been going between us.”

Oh, right.

Robin has been meaning to talk to her about this. “Yeah…introducing me as family might not be the best idea. I’ve been meaning to follow up on that. I don’t look at you as a sister. Or a cousin. Or a second cousin twice removed.”

“Right. I don’t intend to go down that road again with you, but a little making out might have complicated things. But, I’m sure we are both capable of _not_ flirting in public, right?”

Robin struggles to resist laughing at her again. “Regina, I could try, but I’m not an actor. Even if I said all the right things, I'm fairly certain someone is going to notice something between us. You’re already a woman in the public eye and people will be looking at us a bit deeper than they usually do with strangers. And it’s hard to hide, um, sexual chemistry. Or feelings. And if we fail we end up looking a bit incestuous.”

There’s a murmured, dry laugh on the other end of the line.

“So I have to invent a new story for why you, a stranger from outside the city that I’ve never been seen with are doing father-son activities with my son,” Regina sighs.

“We could just go with the truth,” Robin suggests. “I’m the birth father who only recently discovered Henry exists and you are a charitable lovely woman letting me know my son.”

“Well…” Regina trails off, sounding hesitant. “That will bring a lot of attention to _Henry._ I don’t want reporters looking into my son to get more dirt on a rather salacious story.”

“We certainly don’t want that,” Robin agrees. He hears her tense breath on the other end. “What do you suggest?”

For a bit, there is silence Robin is amused, frankly, because he can hear the nerves on her and whatever story she’s concocted must worry her to say. Hell, as long as it’s not introducing him as family he doesn’t care.

“ _Mallory’s_ suggestion — and the one my team has been most satisfied with — is to, um, introduce you as a boyfriend. A serious one. The kind that I’ve been seeing secretly for a while and is only just now taking into the spotlight.”

She doesn’t see the wide smile that spreads over his face because he’s two hours away on the phone, and that’s a good thing because he is sure he looks goofy and ridiculous.

“And while we are fake dating, do you think we should do some real dating?” He asks cheekily, determines to make her laugh instead of lament their situation.

“You sound like Mal,” Regina grouses.

“When am I meeting her? She sounds wonderful. And quite bright,” Robin teases her back.

“Are you okay with this?” Regina asks impatiently, “you never know, people may not ask anything more than your name, or anything at all. I’m not usually, um, engaged on a personal level with people. And there’s not much press interested in the personal life of a small-town mayor. But if they do ask…”

“I’m one hundred percent convinced I can convincingly pretend to be a guy who is really, really into you,” he draws. “Yeah, Regina, I’m in. Tell me our backstory so if people ask, I'll be able to tell when and where we met and when we started to become more.”

“You agreed to this shockingly easily.”

Robin laughs. ”I would have agreed to almost anything you asked of me about this, but if I’m being honest? Pretending to be your boyfriend, which means I get to cozy up to you, hold hands with you—“

“No kissing!” Regina Interrupts, tempering it with a quiet explanation of, “I’m not a very PDA type of person. You don’t have to um, do any of that.”

“But if you ever _wanted_ to….” Robin teases, still enjoying how tense this is making her.

“Robin,” she sighs. “We are just getting to know one another. And if we go down that road and things go poorly? Do you really think we will be able to handle things well with Henry?”

“Yes,” Robin says confidentially. “Unless you’re planning to do something truly terrible to me.”

“I'm not _planning_ on it, but I’m not a nice person,” she says curtly.

He wonders what she’s done that has made her feel so evil.

“I’m not a particularly nice person either,” Robin admits.

Regina snorts. “You’re nice. Incredibly nice. And I know nice. I’ve learned to spot the nice ones. To exploit them.”

“Hmm,” Robin hums, “but so far all you’ve done to me is given me a wonderful gift. A gift so selfless and gracious I can’t even begin to put in words my gratitude.”

There’s a pause, the silence swells and grows before bursting like a balloon between them, and Robin can’t help but be cheeky and add, “And hey, you’re letting me have a relationship with my son, too.”He hears it, her light laughter, she gets his home, but he can’t help but pretend she doesn't get it for a laugh, “Because I was saying the kissing was the most precious gift you’ve given me, you probably thought that was about Henry, but I fooled you there, I--"

“Robin,” she interrupts, though more lighthearted, “trust me when I say I would not be good in a relationship. Especially one where we live two hours apart. And if something goes wrong…”. she pauses and clicks her tongue, “I can be ungodly cruel and vindictive. I don’t want to risk going down that path. Not when Henry cares so much for you.”

“I’m not afraid of you. Or your temper,” he assures. “And I am fairly certain there’s nothing you would do to me that would have me unable to keep things civil for Henry's sake. But if you don’t want it, I won’t push. We can be friends who pretend to be more.”

But she would always be more to him. Even before he kissed her, there was something he felt around her that he couldn’t shake. He can pretend to feel completely platonic, but that’s only because he’s already been pretending. For some time.

Regina hums on the other like, then asks, “How old are you?”

Robin laughs, realizing that’s never been discussed. “Thirty-five. You?”

“Thirty-six,” she murmurs, “I can't believe we didn’t discuss this before.”

They go through some details of one another’s lives, college majors, birthdays, family members, notable life events from the past few years.

The conversation flows so easily, it always does with her, frankly. There’s an easy rhythm to their interactions, to where he can’t believe they’ve only just met.

She talks about her sister a lot, and Robin can tell this relationship is extremely important to her, though she underplays it.

“So will she know we aren’t really dating?” Robin asks.

“Who, Mary Margaret? She's my sister. Henry already accidentally told her about meeting his birth father. And she has such trouble keeping secrets. She’ll have to know. We will have to keep an eye on her.”

“And then there’s Mallory,” Robin says with a click of his tongue.

“We don’t have to worry about her,” Regina assures. “My secretary, if she weren’t complete distracted these days, might remember you. But I can handle that. It’s local politics so there’s not there’s really not a lot of hard-hitting investigative reporting going on. Just gossip.”

“Noted,” Robin nods though she cannot see him. “This will be easy.”

And he’s only partially lying. Pretending to date Regina will go fine. Keeping feelings out of this whole arrangement may prove impossible.


End file.
